


Rise of the Red Wolf

by SansryaFangirl



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Sansa Stark, Bisexual Sansa Stark, Dead Jon Snow, Dead Sansa Stark, Lesbian Sex, Lightbringer, POV Sansa Stark, Queen Arya Stark, Queen Sansa Stark, Sansa Stark is Queen in the North, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-01-22 20:44:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 24,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21308348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SansryaFangirl/pseuds/SansryaFangirl
Summary: Jon Snow, the supposed hero of humanity, was murdered by his own men.How now will Sansa Stark proceed without her brother, faced with many dangers including the inevitable confrontation against Lord Ramsay?
Relationships: Meera Reed & Sansa Stark, Meera Reed/Sansa Stark, Melisandre of Asshai/Sansa Stark, Sansa Stark & Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 36
Kudos: 59





	1. Jon Snow's Death

Sansa Stark had finally escaped Winterfell. At her side were her companions, Lady Brienne and Ser Podrick, as well as her adopted brother Theon Greyjoy, yet Theon left early to go back to his sister in the Iron Islands. If it came to war, Sansa hoped she could count on the Greyjoy fleet for help. But for the time being, she was tasked with finding her brother and recruiting him in what she knew might come. 

"Who goes there?" a Black Brother asked the group. 

"I'm Brienne of Tarth," said Brienne, "And this is Sansa Stark. We're here to see Jon Snow."

"Open the gate,' he replied and sure enough, the gates swung open. Sansa looked around for her brother...but he was not there. Where is Jon? She had come this distance to find him and yet he refused to see her? 

"Where is the Lord Commander?"

"My Lady." a man replied, "There is no Lord Commander right now."

Sansa's lip trembled, "W-What?" Where is Jon? she asked herself again. "Where is my brother? Jon Snow. He is my brother. I wish to speak with him." she demanded, more harshly than she intended.

He looked down, downcast and clearly saddened, "My condolances, Lady Stark...Lord Commander Snow was killed not hours ago."

Not again....Not Jon too.....Sansa refused to believe it yet the disbelief warred with grief and resignation. Yes this was her fate. Her family was slaughtered and never coming back. She was indeed the Last Stark. The hopes of an eight thousand year old dynasty, gone. All because why? Because some bastards killed Jon? She would have her revenge!

"W-what? H-how? Why?" Brienne tried to hold Sansa and steady her.

"Easy, my Lady. I'm so sorry for your loss but we should not stay." Why? Where was there to go? Where was safe? Sansa was adrift in hopelessness. She didn't see any way out of this nightmare. 

A man named Edd approached her, "My Lady, your brother was my friend....and a good man."

"Then why didn't you try to help him?" Sansa hissed, more harshly than she meant. He was clearly taken aback. 

"We tried." said another older man. "My Lady, I am Ser Davos Seaworth. Lady Melisandre, my......she tried to use magic to bring your brother back. it didn't work. Her god had other plans, it seems."

"I don't care....I only care that my brother's dead._ All_ my brothers are dead!" Sansa sobbed violently.

"Let's get her inside! Quick!" Brienne said. 

After some time, Sansa finally calmed down, and sat quietly, sipping on a cup of mead that the Watch provided. 

"So what will happen now?"

"We'll burn him." Sansa looked up, surprised. 

"That is not Northern tradition." she hissed. "He must be taken back to the Crypts of Winterfell where he belongs, not burned like some bloody wood."

"I'm sorry, Lady Stark but if you saw what I saw out there, you'd burn the dead too." Sansa felt a terrible chill fall across her body. 

"What's out there?"

"Terrible things. Dead things. And if we're not ready when they get here.....I'll want them to burn me too." Edd said, cryptically and darkly. Sansa coudl only frown in confusion. 

"Even so.....I want to bury my brother."

"I can't allow that. If your brother comes back, he won't _be_ your brother anymore. He'll be another one of the terrible things. Look, I loved Jon like a brother so I know exactly how you feel-"

"You couldn't _possibly_." Sansa hissed at him. 

"I do....Jon was my friend, and my own people I called my fellow brothers butchered him. Rest assured, Lady Stark.....the mutineers will find their justice here."

"There is no justice...not anymore." Sansa said, sad and resigned, and walked out of the room. 

Brienne tried to follow. 

"Lady Sansa, stop....look you seem to be safe here. But, we can't stay. The Boltons will still want you back. They'll come here and this band of tired old men and young boys can't stop them."

"Don't you think I know that? The Northern houses didn't protect my brother. They didn't protect me."

"I am trying to protect you!" Brienne shouted.

"What do you suggest we do?" Sansa snarled back. "Where is safe? Where will the Boltons not find me?"

"I don't know! You still have a cousin in the Vale-"

"A puppet of Littlerat. The rat left me to rot in Winterfell. If he didn't know about Ramsay, he's a fool. If he did know, he is my_ enemy._" She swore. "If I ever see him again...."

"I understand how you feel but we have no army!"

Sansa shrugged her off. "As if any army can protect me. Nothing...can protect me."

A few days passed and a Brother said that there was a letter with the Bolton seal. Sansa was immediately struck by painful memories and torture, determined to read exactly what Ramsay wanted. He had addressed it to Jon, not knowing apparently that Jon was not coming back. He vowed to skin everyone who didn't give Sansa up. Not only that, but Rickon was apparently still alive, yet held captive inside Ramsay's dungeon. Sansa's lip curled into a terrible, burning rage. 

_That monster...That MONSTER. He took Rickon! And Winterfell! _

As if to take on Ramsay's whole army by herself, Sansa began storming out of Castle Black but was again stopped by Brienne.

"Stop! Lady Sansa, what's your plan? The Boltons are powerful, you said so yourself. We have no army now that you won't go back to the Vale. Ramsay will win, My lady, I can only do so much to protect you!"

Sansa snapped out of her rage and collapsed to her knees. She's right....What does anyone need for hope anymore?

"But that doesn't mean you should give up hope....." she leaned down and brushed aside Sansa's hair out of her face and sat her back up. "I nearly gave in to suicidal revenge once too when I lost my king. But you know who stopped me...? Your mother. I swore myself to her. And I can't let you go and kill yourself now. We need a plan. A true plan. I know you don't want the Boltons to keep your homeland, and i know your brother was a King. So what does that make you, my Lady?"

Sansa's eyes widened in realization.

"A princess....."

"Quite right. And as long as a Princess can still breath, she must fight. But she must fight smart. This isn't over yet."

Sansa's face hardened into steely determination at last. _Yes....I am Princess Sansa Stark of Winterfell....and I will save my brother and take the North back. If what the Lord Commander is saying has any grains of truth in it, I can't just get myself killed. I need to rouse the entire North and march on Ramsay!_

Sansa was saying at her council, "I can't take Winterfell with a couple of knights, though I mean no offence, Brienne. Our only hope is that I can appeal to the Northern houses for help. They have always fought for my family."

"Apologies," said Ser Davos, "But if we're going to war, we'll need strong allies. How many of the Northern houses rose up against the Boltons when they killed your brother and mother?"

Sansa shook her head. It was true enough yet Sansa pushed on.

"They didn't rise up because they didn't know there was another way. Ramsay's reign isn't secure as long as a Stark can still walk through those doors. He may have Ned's trueborn son but I am his trueborn daughter. I am a Princess and Rickon is the true King in the North. The lords of the North must see that and help me."

"That may be, but they don't want their families skinned alive for a lost cause. I know men and following a woman to war is not-"

"Then stay here and rot. I don't need you, my lord. But as for Brienne and I....we're going to war!" _For Father, for Robb, for Jon, for Rickon....I must win!_


	2. Reinforcements

“So, Lady Sansa, what’s the plan?” asked Brienne.

Sansa grimly looked upon her and the map of the North that the Watch provided.

“Ramsay will come for me if we stay here. We must move soon, and ask the Northern houses for help. We will go to Bear Island first, as the Watch has received reports that House Umber has declared for Ramsay, along with the Karstarks. I’ll hang them all when we retake Winterfell-“

“But first we have to take it…”

“Yes.” She pointed at the map, “The most powerful houses besides Boltons, Karstarks and Umbers, are the Manderlys, Glovers and Ryswells. I don’t think we can count on the Ryswells either…so we will start wih Bear Island and build.”

Before they left, Sansa made herself a Stark styled fur coat, with the direwolf sigil enblazoned on her chest. Brienne smiled dutifully, and beckoned her come onto her horse.

After three days riding, they came across a boatman who was willing to take them to the Mormonts of Bear Island. Once there, a guard growled

“Who are you?”

“Lady Sansa of Winterfell, last daughter of Lord Eddard Stark.”

The guard’s eyes widened, “M-my lady. Of course. You can go in.”

Sansa nodded respectfully, and came across the current Lady of Bear Island, Lyanna Mormont.

“Thank you for meeting with me, Lady Lyanna. You were named for my aunt, and you are just as beautiful as her-“

“Why are you here?”

Sansa narrowed her eyes and started in a low voice, “My brothers are all dead, except Rickon. I am the last trueborn daughter of my father, Ned Stark, Princess of Winterfell and heir to Rickon, the true King in the North…and you will be speaking to me with more respect, as you once would have done for my eldest brother. Your King.”

Lyanna looked pained at the memory of Robb, but continued, “M-my….apologies.” She turned and whispered to the lords that had surrounded her. “I could be mistaken but are you not Lady Bolton? Or Lady Lannister? I heard conflicting reports.”

Sansa shouted, “I am not Lady Bolton. I have only done what was necessary to survive. But I am and always will be a Stark. My father would have wanted me to do whatever I can to save Rickon. Robb died trying to free me from the Lannister’s grasp and while eventually I was freed by Lord Greyjoy from Ramsay, I am now faced with the task of retaking my home. I have come here….Lady Mormont, because you are my bannerwoman and you are obliged by your oaths to House Stark to provide men and support in my war, as your house once did for Robb.”

Lyanna narrowed her eyes, “I am Lady of Bear Island, and I am responsible for it and all the men that are here. Why should I commit them to fight and die?”

“Because for thousands of years, you were loyal to the Starks! I am a Stark, and if you do not support me, you’re welcome to do so….but if you do…..I’ll bring the entire Northern army back here and hang you for an oathbreaker!” Sansa snarled.

Lyanna’s guards jumped in front of her to protect her, so Brienne jumped in front of Sansa. But Sansa shook her head, and Brienne released her grip on Oathkeeper.

“You don’t know me, my lady. I’m Brienne of Tarth, sworn shield to Lady Sansa. I only recently came into her service but I know her struggle better than most. She wishes to avenge her brothers and drive out the rats that slaughtered King Robb at the Red Wedding. It may be a losing fight, but wouldn’t you rather die on your feet than continue to get scraps from Lord Ramsay’s table? Live in constant fear they might skin you alive for any reason they please?

Lady Sansa may be young, and a woman..but so are you and so am I. We should stand together…or wait until the Boltons get tired of you and kill you too.”

“Once Ramsay is finished with me, he’ll come for you, even if you believe he will not. Enjoy yourselves.”

Sansa then flipped around and began to walk out, disappointed but still holding her head proudly. She was angry that even the Mormonts, famously loyal, were being so stubborn. Then again the famously loyal Umbers had also deserted her. So be it. As she promised, she would come back and kill them all for this grave betrayal!

“Wait…..” Lyanna’s voice called out. Sansa smirked, and slowly turned to face her.

Sansa’s party was now a total of 66 people, including the Mormont soldiers that Lyanna had finally promised to provide. Next was House Glover at Deepwood Motte.

“Thank you for receiving me, Lord Glover. You knew my brother.”

“I did, Lady Sansa. I did….I called him King in the North…until he went and got himself killed.” He boomed.

Sansa again was disappointed and angry, “Robb did the best he could. He died, and so did all of my other brothers apart from Rickon who is captive in Winterfell's dungeons. Thousands of years ago, Deepwood Motte swore their banners to the Kings of Winter, from that day to the end of time. As the rightful Princess of Winterfell, I formally request you join my army and we overthrow the Boltons once and for all.”

“Why would I fight against the Boltons when they helped me retake this castle from the damn Ironborn? They killed my family, while King Robb was in the south getting killed!”

“He was betrayed and stabbed in the heart by the Boltons you seem eager to protect!”

Lord Glover was now very angered, “I am not protecting anyone!”

“They flay people alive! For fun! They helped butcher not just Robb but 18 000 of our brothers in arms. Butchered them at a wedding after they invited them in! Don’t you want revenge? Don’t you want justice?”

Lord Glover said nothing. Sansa began to turn away.

“Remind me what happened when good men did nothing as the Mad King laughed and burned my grandfather alive? We need to stop Ramsay. We need to. He killed his father. He’ll kill you next eventually, if you wait and do nothing.”

Nothing again, so Sansa turned and began walking away, when she again heard a voice.

“Lady Sansa….you speak harshly….but truly. We must stop them.”

Sansa grinned, “Thank you, my lord. I already have House Hornwood and Mormont with me. You will add plenty of men to my cause. Before long, Ramsay will be outmatched.”

She started small and built up. One by one, many houses declared for her. She gathered up an army of 7000 strong. Slightly disappointed, she reminded herself of the damage the North took In the war and from the Ironborn attack. Soon enough they would be ready to march. Lord Glover, her top officer, warned her that winter would soon trap them so they had to attack soon. Sansa nodded, also counselling Brienne.

“You’re commanding the left flank.” Sansa said that night, in her tent.

“Yes, Lady Sansa. Glover has the centre. Manderly has the right flank.”

“Very good. Do you think we will win this war?”

“…I don’t know, my lady. These men are hard. But they seem trustworthy. And we outnumber Lord Bolton.”

“just don’t fall into any of his traps. He plays with people, so don’t play with him. We need to hit him hard and not let up.”

“It goes without saying, My Lady.”

Sansa smiled at her, and Brienne kneeled, then walked out, clanking with her armor and Oathkeeper clasped to her side.

Sansa’s smile faded. She believed they needed more men. Father always said 500 men could hold Winterfell against ten thousand….

She picked up a pen and paper and began to write.

_Lord Baelish…._


	3. Knights of the Vale

The officers of Sansa's small army were beginning to be restless. 

Sansa dispatched a messenger to her uncle Lord Brynden who had reformed the Tully army, but thye hadn't returned. She knew her last hope was with Lord Baelish who had gotten her raped. 

_I will never forgive or trust him ever again....but I need his men._

"Lady Sansa, the men grow tired of waiting for the Blackfish." said Brienne. "Your messenger is likely dead already."

"I know....I'm waiting for something else." Sansa buried her head into her hands, praying this was the right course. She feared what Baelish would ask for in return for his help, and if he would continue to scheme for power and control. Shae had once warned her that all Baelish wanted from her was the same thing Joffrey and Ramsay wanted. 

_I will deal with him in due course. In the meantime, I must save my brother. My last brother..._

Sansa's heart ached at the thought of Rickon alone, tormented in Ramsay's dungeon, cold and frightened. _I will save you, little brother. I will. And you will be King in the North, I vow it._

A dark voice in Sansa's head told her it was hopeless. That Ramsay was never going to release Rickon for any reason. That her quest would meet in failure. _No. I cannot think it. _

Another dark thought entered her head, that even though Brienne had informed her Arya was out there alive somewhere, she was likely already dead in a ditch somewhere too. The Starks had so many enemies. Sansa survived by keeping her head down and playing the meek stupid little girl, but she knew that Rickon and Arya couldn't play that game forever. _The world is cruel. And in a cruel world, you must survive any way that you can. _

The Stark camp was just over three hundred strong. With the wildlings to her west, no doubt the Umbers and Boltons would be talking and looking more at them, not her. Little ravens had brought a reply from any other Northern lord. And those she had met up with had usually spat in her face or insulted Robb. _Pah. The North remembers? They forgot. They forgot the true steel of a wolf. They just might count themselves lucky that after I'm finished with Ramsay, I don't turn and hunt them all down for oathbreakers. _

Sansa was horrified at her dark thought and shook her head. They were just afraid. Although all houses in the North owed her their immediate loyalty, if she lost, Ramsay would skin their families alive. The Lannisters would burn their farms, slaughter their armies. 

_Don't worry, Cersei....you are the one who is next on my list. _

The bastards who betrayed Jon would have been too, but the new Lord Commander and the wildlings had dealt out justice for him. But this fight, it would have to be won by those south of the Wall. Sure enough, Brienne handed her a message that had the seal of the Mockingbird. 

She opened it,

_Sansa, _

_I loved your mother, and I have loved you. I owe it to her to aid you in any way I can. However, the Knights of the Vale wish to hear it from you. They want to know they are not walking into a Bolton trap. They loved your father, so I have no doubt they will follow you into war._

_Yours now and always, _

_Petyr._

Pah. Very well, my Lord. I will speak to these lords. 

"Lord Hornwood, you have the command. Stay here until I get back."

"As you command, Lady Stark." he grunted. 

"I do not think this wise, my Lady." said Brienne.

"This isn't a trap. Most of the Knights of the Vale knew my father. They would have helped my brother if Lysa wasn't mad."

"As you say. I am sworn to protect you, Lady Sansa."

"I know and I trust you with my life. Just stay with me, and I know we will have our army at last."

Soon enough, she arrived at the Arryn camp. As she approached, two Arryn men blocked her way.

"Who comes?" one of them growled.

"Lady Sansa Stark, rightful Princess of the North. I am here to save my brother, Rickon, the King in the North."

"Lady Sansa? Then I offer my condolences my Lady.....we heard of the death of your half brother, Lord Commander Jon."

Sansa looked down, forlorn, "T-Thank you, Sers. May I pass?"

"Of course, Lady Stark."

It was true that Baelish had gathered the entire might of House Arryn. All the chivalry of the Vale rode here. They had ridden here for her. But first, she would have to convince them this was a war that could be won.

"My Lady," said Baelish. "You recieved my message."

"I did. But know this. I would not have come here groveling for your help if I had any other choice....you are my enemy. Soon enough, when all my other enemies are defeated....we shall have words." Sansa snarled under her breath. 

Baelish had the audacity to simply smirk, "Look at you....already talking like a queen. It goes without saying my Lady, that I would not wish any harm on you. I never did."

"We shall see, Lord Baelish. We shall see. Let's go to the Lords then."

First, was Yohn Royce, whom she had spoken to back at the Eyrie. 

"As I told you once before, Lady Sansa, I knew your father. I rode with him to war against the Mad King. Now we hear whispers that the Mad King's daughter may be sailing for Westeros soon enough, and we will need to prepare to face her."

"I know it, Lord Royce....You are an honorable man, and so was my father. But he is dead. My mother's dead. My brothers except for one are dead. I come here now, asking...no...begging for your help! I am the second last Stark alive, and my family was betrayed and butchered because my aunt Lysa refused to let you help House Stark! But now I am giving you all a chance to make amends...to become the heroic knights of the Vale I know you all to be! Please...for I cannot defeat the Boltons by myself. The fires of hope have gone out in the North....I pray it has not in the Vale."

There was silence for a while until they began chanting, 

"Sansa!" A few at first, clashing their spears against their shields...but then it grew louder and louder. 

"Sansa! Sansa! Sansa! Sansa! SANSA!" Astounded, and amazed, Sansa looked on as tens of thousands of men all cheered her name. She had succeeded in rallying them all to war.

"Lady Sansa," Lord Royce said, after they calmed down, "It would be my honor if you named me Commander of the Stark-Arryn Alliance."

"It is granted, my lord. You have more experience in battles than any of us combined. Together, we will rid Winterfell of the bloody Boltons."

Royce grinned, "I surely hope we can."

Sansa stood proudly, at the head of 30 000 men. The Falcon Banner flew again, alongside the Direwolf, at last.


	4. March to Winterfell

Sansa now stood at the head of a very large host. Soon they would march on Winterfell and free it from the damned Boltons who had made the North suffer.

_They have my brother. They made my kingdom bleed. I do not forget that. I do not forgive it. _

Sansa called for a war council, and there the Lords of the Vale planned their attack. 

"Lady Sansa we have saved you." said Lord Corbray. "Lord Arryn only called his banners to save you. Would it not be best to bring you back to the Vale and wait out the winter there?"

"No, as I have said. I will not let my homeland languish in the hands of the Boltons. Nor would it benefit you, because the more houses that are loyal to King Tommen, the worse it will be for those who still stand against the Lannisters."

"As you say."

"We have made our plans for the siege of Winterfell. We must take the walls through assault. It would not be wise to wait outside for the snows to trap us and destroy our food supply." said Lord Yohn Royce. 

"Very well. Not only that but I don't expect Ramsay to keep my brother alive for long. We need to get inside and save him as soon as we can."

"Aye, Lady Sansa. Our men are used to fighting in the cold mountains of the Vale against the barbaric hill tribes."

"That may be so but these are Boltons, Karstarks and Umbers. They are all Northmen who lived their entire lives here, fighting wildlings, as well as King Aerys and King Joffrey." _Until they betrayed us._

"As you say. Yet it would still benefit us if we could lure them out to face us on the field of our choosing. I do not believe Ramsay yet knows of our approach."

"He will soon, When he does, we cannot fall into his trap. We must attack now before he has a chance to plan a proper defence."

"That would be wise." he gruffly said, then took his leave out of her tent.

"So you've made your plans." said Lord Baelish, after the council ended. 

"Such as they are."

"Don't count on those old men for everything. You need to plan for every possibility, every outcome, always. In your own mind."

"What does that mean?"

"It means....do not underestimate others. Do not trust them. Just trust yourself and your own abilities."

Sansa eyed him suspiciously. _I will never trust him again. Is he trying to tell me not to trust the men who knew my father and rode all the way here to help me? What of the Northmen who honored their oaths to the Starks and supported me? _

It was because of him this all happened. _If he knew about Ramsay, he's my enemy. If he didn't know, he should have known better for a man who's always telling me to consider all possibilities and outcomes. _

Sansa pursed her lips, and decided she would keep him by her side for now, though she knew she no longer needed him for the Knights of the Vale. They had seemingly been convinced to support her of their own accord. 

Inland, marched the Stark-Arryn Alliance. Word began to spread throughout the southern land, of House Cerwyn and Manderly of a gigantic southern host marching north. Rumors were abound that Sansa Stark was alive and leading it. 

Sansa was pouring over maps of the North when a scout came into her tent.

"Lady Sansa....you must come."

So she did, and when she looked, she could see many different banners now flying. More minor houses of Northmen had rallied to her side, including Lord Cerwyn. 

"Lord Cerwyn." she nodded. 

"Lady Sansa, I ask for your deepest forgiveness. I rejected your raven because I didn't feel like this was a war that could be won. But you have rallied a mighty host."

Sansa inwardly raged._ You aren't loyal. You just are choosing the winning side. You know I have the numbers. You want to keep your head when I take the North._

"I thank you for seeing sense, Lord Cerwyn. Let the Boltons tremble. Lord Royce, how many men was this?'

"Two thousand, Lady Stark"

_So i now have 32 000. Hm._ Sansa stroked her chin._ Ramsay said something about having 5000, but he has the Karstarks and Umbers, which makes seven thousand. He will not give battle, not if his scouts see us coming. Would it not be best to send a small force to lure him out, and save my brother? _

"Would it not be best to send a small splinter force, sneak into Winterfell on the cover of night, and save my brother from Ramsay's dungeons?"

"It could be, but he will have scouts all around these forests by now. If we come up the Kingsroad he may be fool enough to meet us, while not being entirely sure of our full strength. We could split the army up into three divisions of ten thousand strong. Surround the castle, and prevent his escape."

"No, it's best to stay together." Sansa shook her head. "Those men fight for Ramsay because they're scared of him. Once they see they can't win, they'l turn on him and the game is won."

"Lady Sansa." Brienne spoke up. "Send me. I could sneak in, save your brother and be out before anyone notices." 

Sansa shook her head, "No I cannot risk you. my friend. You shall command the left flank when we attack Winterfell."

"As you command, my Lady. Your mother...." Brienne looked upon her with soft, kind eyes. "Your mother would be very proud of you."

Sansa stared back with pain and sorrow._ Perhaps. Perhaps she would blame me for letting all of this happen to us. Letting my brothers and father die. _Sansa knew she did everything she could to save her father but it still pained her to think of him. _Joffrey....I should have killed you myself. No matter. I will certainly see Ramsay's head on my spike ._

"I know. Thank you for being here for me."

"I swore a vow Lady Sansa. Your death would not release me of it, just as your mother's death didn't. If you fall.....I will do my best to find Arya and get her somewhere safe."

Sansa had given up hope Arya was alive by this point. She arrived to the Wall and it was too late. She tried to save her father and it was too late. She hoped Robb would save her but he was betrayed and butchered by cowards. 

If Arya was somewhere still out there, would she blame her for letting their family come to ruin? She didn't know. But it would be lovely to see Arya again....Sansa wanted to apologize, for everything. She thought herself a terrible sister. Wasted so much time fighting Arya when they could have been a team protecting Father. 

_I'm sorry, Arya...for everything. _

Across the horizon, flew the banners of House Stark, House Arryn and House Cerwyn. Their host approached Winterfell. But as they did, they saw a party of Bolton men, too small for an attack. 

"Lady Sansa....there's a contingent of men flying the Bolton Flayed Man but it is far too small to be them attacking us."

Sansa's eyes turned dark. She knew what this meant.

"I will meet with him."

"Lady Sansa-"

"You can accompany me the whole time, Brienne. I will be fine."

"As you say."

They formed a continent of their own, consisting of Sansa, Brienne and all the major officers. They flew the banners of the Starks, as well as Arryns, Royces and Cerwyns. Sansa almost retched at the sight of the rat-faced boy who had tormented her so. On the side of Ramsay there was also Lord Karstark and Smalljon Umber. _Bastards. I will kill them all._

"Lord Bolton."

He chuckled sadistically, "Now, now, wife, is that any way to address your husband?"

"Why have you come? Don't you see those banners out there?"

"You think some pieces of cloth will make you able to defeat me in my own castle?"

"The men holding them will. Stop this nonsense, Lord Karstark and Umber. You knew my father, and fought alongside my brother against Joffrey. You know I have the numbers. Surely you know we plan to slaughter you all if you don't surrender."

"It need not come to that, Sansa." he licked his lips. "Give up this foolishness and rejoin my side as my lady wife. You will be Wardeness of the North. Our sons will rule Winterfell. The Bastard is dead. He can't protect you now.Nor can your quaint band of southerner dogs."

"That was my brother, you insipid little rat! And you have my other brother, don't you? You will die tomorrow, Lord Bolton. Come out of that castle if you are a man and let us see who truly deserves to rule Winterfell." Sansa thundered. Even Brienne looked a little scared of her. 

"Attack this castle and I will hang your brother. Do not make any foolish decisions, Sansa. You just got one brother killed. Don't get another killed because you're too proud to bend the knee before me."

_It's not about that, you bastard. Rickon's dead no matter what I do_, Sansa realized with a terrible dread. _He'll never give him up. My only hope is storming the castle. Tomorrow then. You will meet your fate, Ramsay. I'll come and collect your head. _It hadn't yet occured to Sansa that should Rickon fall, she stood as clear heir to Winterfell and heir to King Robb.


	5. Siege of Winterfell

"We know this castle better than he ever will," Sansa was saying to her war council. "I wanted to bait him into attempting an attack today but it seems he did not take it. He is staying within his walls."

"Then Lady Sansa, we will lose thousands taking the walls. He is more prepared for a siege than we are. As the snows come in, we will soon starve. It won't be long before our army crumbles and mutinies."

Sansa pressed her hand to her chin in deep thought. "Then we must attack now." Her face turned steely and determined. "Prepare the men into marching formation. Load the siege engines, and fly the Stark banner."

For the first time in many years, the Direwolf of House Stark flew once again, proudly flapping in the wind. Sansa had sown herself a personal banner which flew above her command tent, and she had Brienne's armor forge a pattern of a wolf onto it. 

"Brienne my trusted sworn sword."

"My Lady." Brienne kneeled before her. 

"You will lead the left flank. With me in the centre, Lord Royce. You are the most experienced general out of any man alive."

"It will be my honor my lady." he boomed.

"On the right flank, Lord Glover. Once the gate falls to our siege engines, the vanguard will be the first through, led by Brienne. If we can take the outer section of the wall, the war is won. Any Boltons and Karstarks surrendering will be given...full quarter." She slightly narrowed her eyes to her generals. "I am not a butcher. The only exception is Ramsay Bolton. I want him brought to me, dead or alive. I care not which.

My lords, it is time we saw ourselves rid of the rats who've taken over my home. Ramsay's time is up."

The plan began to take form and the soldiers would party tonight, but tomorrow the final battle would begin. 

Sansa stared at her war map, even after all the generals had left. Brienne, her ever loyal sworn sword, remained by her side. 

"You're worried." she said in a quiet voice. "Why? We have the numbers. With the Arryns in this, we shall win tomorrow."

"Ramsay has his tricks...he may slither himself out of this yet. Elsewise you forget yourself. I am looking not to Winterfell tomorrow but the future. King Tommen sits the Iron Throne and if I destroy his Bolton dogs, he will come for me next. I hope tomorrow I don't damage Winterfell much. We will need it...for the wars to come."

Brienne smiled gently, "Were it not for you, Ramsay would still comfortably control the North. Tomorrow we will decide the North's fate and mount his rat head on a spike. Have I ever told you I killed the false King Stannis Baratheon? Well, I did. And I thought then, as I do now, just once I would like to kill for a monarch i believe in. Just something to think about, my lady."

"You may be right....but I have underestimated Cersei for long enough. She sits at Tommen's table and makes his decisions. Eventually her and I will come to blows and I don't know if I will be able to stop her..."

"We will. Trust in your armies. Trust in yourself and you will win."

The dawn came. Sansa did not sleep that night, and when she suited herself up for battle, she peered out at the morning sun barely breaking past the horizon. She stared out at the forest, the country...Her country. And today is the day I take it back and save my brother. I don't know if I can save you Rickon, but I am going to try.

Outside, as she rode into the assembled host, she gasped. Fully assembled and in formation, thirty thousand Arryns and Northmen stood at the ready, their armor and weapons gleaming in the morning sun beautifully. On the right flank were the mounted Knights of the Vale, chivalrous, calm and proud in their heavy armor and carrying lances. As a little girl, Sansa may have fainted at the sight, yet even now, even after everything she had gone through, it was still quite amazing to behold. Many years ago, these men rode forth from the Vale to fight alongside her father against the Mad King....Now again...for her. Her father's daughter. Robb's sister. 

_I do this for you, Robb. I'm sorry that under our watch we lost the North, but I promise I will get it back and get King Rickon back._ A small voice inside Sansa's mind told her once again that Rickon was never going to get back. Ramsay would not allow it. If he sensed the tide turning, Ramsay will get desperate and kill every hostage he possessed. And then who would the North turn to? But she tried to shake it out of her mind. In that castle was the most evil devil she had ever known. Her rapist, her brother's captor. The son of the man who killed her eldest brother, defender of the kingdom and King in the North. 

She slowly rode out, on her pale white horse and furry leather armor. 

"The men are ready, my lady."

"Very well, my lord."

"My lady!" a rider came up to her. "There's someone coming out of Winterfell!"

Sansa turned and it was true enough. Several figures were coming out of the gates, with a boy in chains. No....

Ramsay violently threw the boy onto his knees, and made him yell, "I am Rickon Stark!" 

Yet as soon as he did, Ramsay brutally shoved a sword into his heart. Smirking, he looked upon Sansa and waited to see what she would do. 

Sansa burned with anger and fury....No...you evil bloody raping bastard! You murdered my last brother! Is this truly my fate, to be the last Stark? Please Arya....tell me I'm wrong! My baby brother....She choked back tears, and instead replaced it with cold fury.

"My Lord Royce...." She growled in a quiet but terrible voice...."Unleash hell."

"LOOOSEE!" Lord Royce yelled, and like that, the trebuchets and war machines began to unleash hell. Sansa regretted doing so much damage to her home but it was necessary to get inside. Once the gate fell, the battle would begin. Sansa had never been in a battle, and the only battle she had experienced, Blackwater Bay, she truly believed would be her end. If what the Watch was saying was true, and if Cersei marched north with her armies, perhaps Sansa would indeed meet her end. But for now, she had to focus on avenging her brothers and destroying Ramsay.

Sure enough, there was yelling and screaming. Many Boltons and Karstarks were likely falling. 

Sansa looked on apprehensively. 

"Don't worry, my lady. The gate cannot hold forever against our assault."

"See that it does not, Lord Royce. We must kill them all." All love and wonder was gone in Sansa's voice. She wanted revenge, pure and simple. 

Royce nodded gravely, and turned to the artillery crew. "You there! Loose faster! Get to work!"

Their trebuchets loosed fiery rocks like they were spitting out hell itself. Eventually, sure enough, the gate crumbled and the Stark-Arryn host erupted in a mighty cheer. 

"My Lady the gate is falling!" cried Lord Royce.

Sansa grinned fiercely, and rode out to the head of the army. 

"Now is the time! My brave brothers, Stark, Arryn, Glover, Corbray and Grafton. Take this castle from those murderous flaying bastards and I will see to it that by daybreak tomorrow, you will all feast in the halls of Winterfell!"

"YEAAAAAH!" they cheered, and let out an mighty battle roar.

"FOR HOUSE STAAARK!" they cried. First in were the archers, who set up and began firing at the archers on the walls. Many Arryn archers fell, and Sansa felt guilt. Men are dying...good men...because I ordered them to go. She tried to shake it off. She knew by assaulting the walls, many of her men would perish. Indeed the infantry was nearly through the gate. Now all Sansa could see was fire, blood, mud and death. Shouting. so very loud. She didn't think battles would be this loud. Blackwater Bay seemed like a distant memory. 

Arrows flew all around, from both the top of the walls and down on the ground. She looked closely and saw that men flying the falcon and the wolf were actually pushing up onto the top of the outer wall, and throwing down the Flayed Man. The tide was turning. Rickon's body was still on the field, and Sansa ordered her remaining personal guards to retrieve it. Before long they were bringing him up to her.

She looked on his face, bloodied and with an expression of sheer horror as his elder sister failed him. I'm so sorry, Rickon. I couldn't get to you in time....

"We will bury my brother in the crypts of Winterfell." she croaked, tears threatening to escape. 

"As you wish, my lady."

"How goes the siege?"

"The commanders report that we've taken out the outer wall, and pushed them back tot he second layer. It will not be long now, Lady Stark."

"Very good, Ser Lyn." She sighed resignedly and stroked her dead brother's cheek. "Very good...."

Sansa was in her command tent, when there was a rumbling and footsteps. As well as shouting. 

A man clad in blood stained armor, she recognized as Lord Glover, stepped in. Sansa let out a small gaps of relief. There had still been doubt in her mind that they would win. 

"Lady Stark.....when we breached the inner section of Winterfell, all of the Karstarks saw the battle was lost and defected. They started stabbing the Bolton men wildly, and gave Lord Ramsay to us, trussed and hooded. The Battle of Winterfell is over, and we have won."


	6. A Queen Rises

Sansa stalked forward, through the open gates, until...for the first time as a free woman...she was home, at last. 

_I did it Robb. I'm so sorry for everything, Arya and Father. But I got it back. _

When her commanders informed her that their armies had taken the castle, it was small consolation given the devastation of her family, yet she could not stop herself from smiling in relief. The Boltons were defeated. The Umbers and Karstarks had deserted the Boltons at the last second, so Sansa could not be completely angry at them, but they did deserve some punishment...one day. 

"Where is he?" she croaked in a low growl to Lord Royce. "Where are you keeping him?"

"We brought him to the brig under Winterfell, My Lady."

Sansa nodded briefly, "Take me to him."

Ramsay was slightly bloodied, but otherwise unharmed. It had only been hours since his own allies betrayed him and handed him over. 

He groggily looked up, and saw Sansa flanked by Brienne and Lord Royce. 

"Oh...Sansa....have to come to gloat, girl? What's the matter, don't like being called girl?"

Sansa merely stared, her eyes iron. 

"Well....this is it, isn't it? I don't expect to survive the night...but I will be always with you, Sansa. You cannot escape me."

"No." Sansa snarled. "I will erase House Bolton from the history books. I will tear the Dreadfort to the ground, brick by brick. I will burn every banner of the Flayed Man I can find! Until you...and your house....are ashes. Then you can die."

Ramsay chuckled evilly, "But you....they'll never respect you. Not completely. You married the enemy. It doesn't matter though, does it? Soon enough....you'll burn too." Then he sadistically laughed again.

Sansa ordered the Dreadfort pulled down, and Ramsay brought to her, a few days later. 

He was dischevelled, coughing and starving. They were feeding him scraps. He was brought up to a platform on the walls of Winterfell, where he would be hanged for all the North to see.

"Lord Ramsay Bolton of the now destroyed Deadfort.....do you have any last words?" Sansa snarled while the men put rope around his neck. 

"Remember what I told you Lady Sansa....You will join me in the Seven Hells soon enough."

She ignored him.

"My Lord Father once said those who pass the sentence should swing the sword....I will try to live by those words."

With that, she brutally kicked the wood out from under him and his body fell. Sansa did not look away. She watched for several long minutes as the last scion of House Bolton was brought to his end, choking, spluttering and gasping like the vermin he was.

"Rig his body up on the field outside the walls as a warning to all traitors." _It's finally over...he's finally dead._ She couldn't contain her elated smirk.

Sansa tried not to let Ramsay's final warning get to her, and instead focused on what she promised, destroying the flayed banners and flying the Direwolf once again. For the first time since Theon took Winterfell, House Stark stood proud as the rulers of the North.

"My Lady?" Sansa was gazing out at the forest from the balcony, when Brienne approached her. "News from the Citadel."

Sansa opened the message and almost laughed. Winter was here at last. As Father always warned. 

"Thank you, Brienne. Anything else?"

"Aye. By your command, all surviving lords of the North are assembling."

"Very good."

Sansa knew Baelish would be amongst them. She still would never truly trust the man but she needed his men. If not for the armies of the Arryns, Ramsay would still hold Winterfell.

One lord was shouting, "Winter is here! Now we should fall back to our homes and wait out the winter there. If the Maesters are right, it will be the coldest one in a thousand years!"

"The Knights of the Vale rode here for Lady Sansa!" agreed Lord Royce. "If we flee back home now-"

"The war is over, Royce!"

"It's not over..." Sansa interrupted. "So long as House Lannister rules the Iron Throne. Cersei believes me to have aided in killing her son. Other enemies will be coming here...soon. Tommen on the Iron Throne....the Daughter of the Mad King will soon turn her eye to us before long, and some...I have heard terrible rumor of...I may not be able to stop by myself."

There was more shouting, as well as a cold terrible fear spreading through their ranks at the mention of the Walkers.

"You may not want to stay and fight..and I don't expect you to. But I tell you now...against the forces now arrayed against us, standing together may be our only chance to survive. When I asked, you came. All the might of the Vale, and most of the Northern houses, no matter your initial misgivings. I stood at the head of thirty thousand men and together we fought to take this castle back. I'm truly sorry for my brother Robb's mistakes. Yet the fire he left in us I do not believe has burned out. If we run now, we offer all of our souls to darkness."

The room was met with a shamed silence for several moments.

Lord Manderly was first to speak up.

"You...speak harshly, my Lady...and truly. It is true I did not rush to your aid when you called, because I didn't want to fight on the losing side for nothing. But I was wrong! It takes a man to admit that...you avenged the Red Wedding when you united us against the Boltons. You _are_ the Red Wolf. Tommen Baratheon is nothin to me! Nor Daenerys! There..." he drew his sword and pointed it right at her, 'Is the only queen I mean to serve this day and all days to come. _The Queen in the North!"_

Brienne stepped forward and unsheathed Oathkeeper, smiling proudly at the redhead.

"Am I your sworn sword, my queen...now and always?"

Sansa gingerly nodded, barely containing herself.

"I didn't think we would find another king, after your brother. What I told Stannis Baratheon is true. The North knows no Queen but the Queen in the North, who's name is Stark. I don;t care if she's a woman. So am bloody I! She's my queen...from this day to my last day!" boomed Lyanna Mormont proudly.

Next was Lord Corbray.

"Lady Sansa, I admit I miss home...but if you say there are more fights to come, we will follow you. We loved your father. We fought and bled beside him against the Mad King....And I will stand behind Sansa Stark. 

The Queen of the Mountain and Vale!"

"Queen of Mountain and Vale!"

One by one the Vale knights began pulling out their swords and chanting.

Then after that, the Northerners all pulled out their blades and began chanting, 

"QUEEN IN THE NORTH! QUEEN IN THE NORTH! QUEEN IN THE NORTH! QUEEN IN THE NORTH!"

Sansa could not help but smile. She could hardly believe it herself. Queen? Just a few months ago she would have found it overwhelming just to be Wardeness. But her smile died when she saw Baelish smirking his same old smug evil smirk._ Little rat. You got me raped. Your time will surely come._

The coronation was followed by Sansa ordering the construction of a wolf crown. When it was placed upon her head it shone with silver starlight, two wolves in an embrace while biting a lion. 

"All Bow Before Her Grace, Sansa of House Stark, the Red Wolf, Slayer of the Bastard, Queen of the North and Vale, Shield of White Harbor, Lady of Winter and Protector of the Realm"

"All Hail Sansa the Red Wolf!" They stood and cheered, all together. 

"Thank you, my lords. Our first and primary task is to rebuild the North. I want our walls repaired, as many men as you can find recruited and added to my levies, and our food supplies gathered for the winter.When the real cold comes, Winterfell must be able to hold out.

As my first act as queen, I name Brienne of Tarth Lady Commander of my Queensguard."

Brienne drew Oathkeeper and laid it at her feet, "Your Grace you do me a great honor."

"Serve me well, Brienne, as you always have." Sansa said with a warm smile._ Your Grace. Seven Hells, I will never get used to that._

"As my second act, I will formally pardon House Umber and House Karstark of their treasons towards my house. Lord Ned Umber, Lady Alys Karstark."

Two children stepped forward. 

"Your parents died in the field of battle after they defected back to me from Lord Ramsay. If not for that, we might still be fighting a damned siege. For that, I thank them and it is a debt I can scarcely repay. However, I do not feel as if I can fully trust you as of yet. Swear new oaths of fealty to me, and I will restore you to your ancient homes and titles."

They drew their blades and kneeled before her.

"We stand with you, Queen Sansa, from this day to our last days. House Umber-"

"And House Karstark-"

"swear we will keep faith with House Stark until the end of time."

Sansa nodded, "Lord Umber, your lands are closest to the Wall. I want you to prepare your people for war."

"Which war, Your Grace?"

Sansa shook her head, "Just a feeling." A slight chill ran through her body.

After the lords excused themselves, Baelish approached her.

"We haven't had much time to speak, Your Grace."

"No I imagine not. I have been quite busy." Sansa quipped.

"Yes.." he smirked. "Many underestimated you. Many thought you were just a meek, weak girl, yet here you stand...Queen in the North. Last best hope for your people."

"What do you want, Lord Baelish?" she sighed.

"Ruling..It suits you...but one will need a Hand of the Queen to...ease your burdens, would you not?"

Sansa whirled on him, "You sold me off to be raped. I have not forgotten that...I have not forgiven it. Lord Royce!" She shouted at the man about to leave the court. 

"Your Grace?" He bowed.

"You were my most trusted officer, and now stand supreme commander of my army. You knew my father, and fought with him, then you rode with me to Winterfell."

"I did, Your Grace. He was a good man."

She smiled, "Then I would name you Hand of the Queen."

His eyes widened and he shuffled back, 'Uh...a great honor....I accept, Your Grace." he kneeled. 

"Rise, Yohn Royce, Hand of the Queen." she boomed.

A few days later, Sansa was speaking with Lord Royce when her Maester, Wolkan, approached them. He looked quite concerned.

"What is it?" Sansa asked.

"Your Grace....News from King's Landing." said the Maester. 

Sansa opened the letter and her eyes widened. 

_Queen Sansa, _

_You know me quite well. We spent time together once in the capital, and I hope you know I am still the girl you once knew. We face a terrible battle against the Dragon Queen and I offer my formal request for an alliance against her. We are all Westerosi this day and unless we stand together, her foreign hordes will overcome us._

_In return I am prepared to negotiate with you for the peaceful annexation of the North back into the fold. It's more than reasonable. I hope you feel the same. Together, we can defend Westeros from those who would destroy it._

_signed, _

_Myrcella Baratheon, First of My Name, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms._


	7. Queen of the Trident

"Indeed I knew Myrcella for a short time. She seemed kind and sweet, not at all like her evil brother. From what I heard she has been in Dorne these past years which means Trystane Martell is King. I don't think we can count on her as a reliable ally. And then there is the news of what happened to the Freys. Whoever killed them all, I say thank you, yet I fear what could have wiped them out so easily."

"Do you think it is truly Myrcella?" asked Lady Commander Brienne. 

"I do think so. I don't see why Cersei would impersonate the daughter I barely knew. I daresay she is better than the Mad King's daughter but to fight with Lannisters...."

"Your kingdom would string you up and make you eat your own guts."

Sansa chuckled darkly, "Quite.....Then no. We shall stay here where we belong. And after the ashes fall, and a winning queen emerges, we will decide how best to defend the North. In the meantime, prepare every man who knows how to construct siege weaponry. I want Moat Cailin and Winterfell fully armed with anti dragon scorpions, as well as trenches and moats to shield against cavalry which Daenerys is no doubt bringing."

"Is it truly wise to make an enemy of her?"

"Her damned family made an enemy of me!" Sansa snarled, but then composed herself. "Her father burned my grandfather and uncle alive, and thousands of Northmen fell fighting the Targaryen royalists. I know all too well what the Targaryens are, but I am not making an enemy of anyone...yet. I am simply...preparing for the worst. Mowing down 4000 demoralized Boltons is quite different against a prepared well supplied Lannister army. My eldest brother knew that threat well enough and he was ten times the commander you will ever be."

"As you say, Your Grace, yet still, it is best to play this safe. I swore to keep you safe and I will."

Sansa smiled, "I know and you are my Lady Commander. I trust you with my life. But it doesn't mean I will be safe forever. t won't be long before my entire kingdom knows Myrcella is queen and Daenerys has landed. And it won't be long before I must choose whether to keep my crown or not."

"As soon as I received this letter, I began construction of anti dragon weaponry at Winterfell and other castles. The Mad King's daughter if she defeats Queen Myrcella will soon turn her eye upon me. She has come for the Seven Kingdoms and we are two of those seven kingdoms."

"What of the Tully amy, my queen?" asked Lord Manderly.

"They rallied together as soon as they heard of the death of the Freys, and are heading north under my uncle as we speak to declare for me. Half the Frey women who are left are coming with them. Half stayed with Myrcella. But they are not bringing many. This is why, more than ever, we need allies. There are thousands of wildlings my brother allowed south of the Wall, and they would surely bolster our numbers if we were to-"

"Your Grace we did not take back Winterfell to make brothers of _wildlings_!" Glover shouted in the Great Hall.

"I understand that, but when my brother let them south of the Wall, he had a reason for it. I must trust in that. Never doubt that I hold no great will for them, as my father fought them all his life, yet when the storm comes, we must stand together, all of us. I have recieved reports from my scouts that there are women and children in that camp. As long as I am queen, I will not have any of my Northern men slaughter innocents-"

"They've slaughtered our villages and raped our women!" yelled Lyanna Mormont. "Your Grace, I follow the Queen in the North, but-"

"We slaughtered too. Thousands of Boltons on the battlefield! Not all of them skinned people alive like Ramsay. Most were farm boys told to fight or face the hangman's noose. When I was a hostage in King's Landing, I was judged for my blood and nothing more. So why would I judge children for the sins of their fathers? I regret every day having to order such battle, yet I did so that we might all be able to survive.

Lord Tormund..." she boomed, and a great hairy man stood up from behind them, grinning at Brienne all the while. 

He chuckled heartily, "Lord? I am no lord, little queen. I'm not like you southerners. I am just a man."

"Does this..man speak for your people? If not, fetch me someone who does."

Tormund paused, looking around, "I can speak for my people."

"Then bring your people further south, or across the sea. I cannot protect you here, not forever. My brother....Did you know him?"

"Yes, little queen. I knew Jon..." he said in his gruff growl, downcast. "Prettier than half my daughters but the fooker could fight. For his sake we took down the traitors who butchered him at Castle Black."

"That was you?" Sansa's breath hitched at the discussion about her dead brother. "Then you have my gratitude...and my pardon. Leave..now. Before my men let bloodlust overtake honor."

He shook his head darkly, "If your brother were here, if your black crows were, they'd tell you what I tell you now. There is nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide from what is coming down from the North. Death marches on the Wall and we made a pact with Jon to fight against it when the time comes. That time will not be long from now."

Sansa was deep in thought, and a cold terrible chill overtook her. Not only were the Watch bringing in reports such as this, but also her own scouts, reporting fires north of the Wall, and now the leader of the wildlings. 

"You speak of the White Walkers. I have heard many a tale when I was a little girl, about them. Pale spiders big as hounds-"

"After everything I have seen up there, I can tell you I would not doubt they are real. We belong in the North...the real North....but not until the true enemy is defeated. I fought them at Hardhome with your brother. We lost." he boomed darkly.

Sansa let that sink in, yet she still dared not fully believe it. It did make sense but it would mean that this Game of Three Queens meant nothing. That death itself was on its way and they were powerless to stop it. She hadn't the slightest clue how to kill a Walker let alone thousands. 

She thought of her younger brother still somewhere out there. She thought of Rickon whom she had buried not a week ago. If Arya was gone too, she was the only Stark left and she felt the weight every day of such a burden. The last member of a dynasty that stretched back thousands of years to the very first war against the dead, to Brandon the Builder.

_Where are you, Bran? I need you._

As the impending war between Daenerys and Myrcella came closer, and peace with the wildlings achieved, finally the Tully army arrived.

"Niece." growled Uncle Edmure, bowing.

"Uncle, it does me good to see you again. I am truly sorry I was not there for Grandfather's funeral."

"As was I for not being there to save your brothers. Yet I am here to make amends now. Tully blood runs through your veins, Your Grace, thousands of years dating back to the River Kings of Old, just as proud as the Kings of Winter. I declared your brother, my nephew, the King in the North and it was a moment I would remember for the rest of my life. But Robb is gone now, and it seems you have revived the fire that was once in his heart. It lives in you now, niece.

And so...I will serve you from this day to the end of time....Queen of the Trident!

One by one, the Riverlords stood up and began speaking.

"I would agree to those terms! Myrcella can keep her damned iron chair! To Seven Hells with the Mad King's whelp elsewise! The Queen of the Trident! 

"We bowed to your brother and called him King of the North and Trident. His will lives in you now. The Queen of the Trident."

Then they all stood up and raised their swords chanting and cheering. The Vale Lords and Northmen looked on proudly as within just a few weeks, Sansa had risen from little more than a fugitive daughter of a traitor to queen of half the continent. If it was overwhelming to her, she did not show it, merely smiling respectfully as her wolf crown shone in the afternoon light.

"I am grateful for your loyalty my lords. I carry on the blood of two great houses and although I know some of the Riverlords stayed with Myrcella, I will do my utmost to protect those who support me. You have my word."

Again a great cheer erupted, and the chants of "Red Wolf! Red Wolf! Red Wolf!"

Ever southwards, the doom approached. Thousands of them, they came. Dead men, dead giants and the ancient entities that commanded them. They were coming to finish off humanity and only scant few stood against them. And ever northward, there was a girl approaching, long forgotten. A short thin sword clasped to her belt, and black lean hair adorning her face. Finally it was within sight. The gates of Winterfell. 

Arya Stark was home at last.


	8. Queensguard

Queen Sansa was deep in thought. War was surely coming to Westeros, but she had no idea if she should march north or south. Rumors were building and growing more and more concerning. 

"Your Grace?" said a voice, and Sansa recognized him as Lord Howland Reed. 

"Lord Howland. It is a pleasure. What news?"

"It's been quiet. According to my scouts and your spymaster Lord Manderly, there was a major naval battle between the approaching Targaryen forces and King Euron Greyjoy. The Dragon Queen took heavy losses but managed to make landfall somewhere in the Reach where she is currently gathering more support and ships."

"And Queen Myrcella?"

"Marshalling her forces at the capital and Sunspear. As you know, she made a Martell boy king so they are in her cause to the very end."

"Aye. So the war has begun."

"It has. The other lords told me your stance on this but you should truly reconsider. We will be dragged into this eventually."

"Lord Howland, I have been doubling defences all over the Riverlands and the Neck. I am more than aware that war will come to the North. I am just not sure from which direction it will come."

"Direction?"

Sansa shook her head, "Never mind. Snarks and grumpkins." Yet as she said that, she buried her face into her hands. Last she heard of either sibling she had left, they were out there...somewhere. 

Sansa was discussing strategy with Lord Royce when her Maester interrupted.

"Yes but we need to-"

"Your Grace? Forgive me."

"Yes? What news?"

"I.....there is someone at the gate."

Sansa's heart filled with anticipation. Sure enough, when she got outside to the gate, there was a cart being wheeled inside and a figure seated upon it. Pushing it in were her guards and a curly haired girl. 

Following her outside was her Master at Arms Lord Howland Reed. At this sight, the girl's breath hitched, 

"F-Father?"

"Meera?" replied Lord Howland. "Oh my sweet daughter!" They ran into each other's arms, emotionally.

"Your brother?"

But Meera's forlorn expression told him all he needed to know. 

"I'm so sorry, Father."

"It wasn't your fault. Who's your friend?"

But Sansa already could see who it was.

"B-Bran! Oh, little brother!" She leapt into his arms and glomped him tightly. She felt hot tears pour down her face in relief and anguish. 

"Hello, Sansa." he said in a cold, distant voice. Sansa frowned but let it pass. 

"Oh little brother....but wait...this means you are the rightful King in the North!"

"I can never be King in the North. I can never be king of anything. I'm the Three Eyed Raven." Sansa nodded, unsure of what that meant but she let it pass due to being so happy she had her brother back.

"What are you doing? Help me get my brother inside!" Then she turned to Meera. 

"You saved my brother's life. It is a debt I can never repay, my Lady."

Meera bowed, "There is nothing to repay, Your Grace. We both love you, my queen."

Lord Howland nodded proudly. 

"In any case, if you wish to have anything, if it is within my power, I will grant it, Lady Meera."

"Thank you, Your Grace." Meera gave her a kind smile, then followed Bran inside.

Once they got inside, Sansa continued to cuddle her brother.

But Bran was not impressed. "We don't have time for all of this. The Night King will come for us. The dead march south." 

A terrible chill spread through Sansa's body. So it was true after all....Tormund was right. 

"Bran....how long do we have?"

"Who can say? But he will want me. He's wanted many Three Eyed Ravens before. He wants to erase this world and the world's memory is contained within me. When he finds his way to the world of men, I must be ready."

"As you say. How do we kill them?"

Meera was the one who spoke up next. "You can destroy the dead ones with fire. But the Walkers themselves, you must destroy them with dragonglass. I slew one in the Raven's cave during the last moon."

"You....killed one of them?"

"Aye."

Howland spoke for his daughter, "I believe her. My queen....we should take this as fact. I trust my daughter's word and eyes with my life and if she says this is what is coming for us..."

"Have no fear. I believe my brother and your daughter. My brother according to his brothers in the Watch fought them. The old Lord Commander fought them. The wildlings fought them. They are coming. The other monarchs have to know."

"But how will you convince them to fight an enemy they've never seen and won't believe in?"

Sansa pressed her face to her hands, "I'm still working on that."

"Could we somehow obtain proof?"

"No." said Meera. "There's a hundred thousand of them out there. We can't even get close, let alone take one of the wights back home. And I already used the last dragonglass."

"Seven hells," swore her father. "Then we just have to hope the Wall is high enough."

Far away, a plump boy pored over several old books, until he came across two devastating discoveries. 

"Three hundred and eighty two shits!....I'm sorry, Gilly...wait...what's this?"

His eyes nearly popped out of his skull, "This...this is important! The Queen has to know!" In a panic, he shut the book and began writing a letter.

Sansa was pouring over old books in her quarters when two guards knocked at the door.

"Sorry to disturb you, Your Grace. But there was a young girl, with black hair at the gate. We told her to fook off but she refused. She was asking for...Ser Rodrick? And Maester Luwin?"

Sansa's memories rushed back so quickly she thought she might faint..._.Arya. My sweet sister is home again!_

"Where is she?"

"Just outside."

"Bring her in." Sansa forced herself not to goofily smile, and tried to maintain a regal queenly demeanor.

In stepped, Needle clanging against her waist, a raven haired, muscled woman who had quite sizable breasts and strong abs noticable beneath her clothing. If it bothered Sansa that she was checking out her own sister, she didn't show it. 

"Arya!" she squeaked and leapt into her sister's arms. 

"Do I have to call you, Your Grace?"

"It does not matter to me, I promise. All that matters is you're here now." Sansa smelled Arya's hair and pressed her breasts up against Arya's.

Arya giggled, "Yeah I'm home, Sansa. I'm home." 

Sansa laughed good naturedly, "I'm glad you are. You shouldn't have run from Brienne. She would have protected you."

"I know...but I survived anyway. It's been a hard road. From what I hear, things were hard for you too."

"You could say that." Sansa whispered darkly. Arya was immediately apologetic.

"I'm s-sorry. I only meant...I'm glad you survived."

"I know Arya."

"You even took back our home! One day you will have to tell me just how a fugitive wanted for Joffrey's death managed to be Queen of half the country."

"I will, but first, I need to tell you that Bran is home too. But he's...different."

Arya's goofy smile faded slightly. 

"He's saying stuff about being a raven or something. And it's like his personality died or something. He's just....too different."

"We will work it out, Sans. I'm just glad we both made it home." Arya then went in for another hug and Sansa let her cuddle against her for what felt like hours. It gladdened her that Arya seemed to approve of her being queen. She supposed with Jon dead, there was only one true choice.

"Are you sure you're ok with..." Sansa gestured to her glittering wolf crown.

"Why wouldn't I be, Sans? You know I've never had any interest in wearing dresses or being Lady Stark. Let alone Queen in the Bloody North." The Stark sisters softly giggled. "With Jon...and Rickon....."s she trailed off. "Who else could the North rally behind? I heard from my friend about the Battle of the Falcon and Wolf."

_That's what they're calling it?_ thought Sansa. 

"How your knights rode in and took the walls..and the other houses betraying the Boltons for you. I could not be more proud, I promise." Sansa smiled, not entirely expecting Arya to be ok given the last time they spoke. But she was filled with a new ray of hope knowing that both herself and Arya had changed so much that the past was buried and a new dawn of sisterly love was born.

"I...I am truly sorry, Arya...." There it was. She had betrayed Arya, her own blood, so long ago for the princely psychopath, and now she had to face up to her past mistakes.

"For what?"

"For everything I have d-done.." Sansa almost sobbed. "I was a terrible sister."

"Oh Sans, that was so long ago. I wasn't the best sister either. Please allow that years of suffering can change a person."

"As have they changed me. Not always in a way I would have liked." Sansa thought about th thousands of men she killed during that battle. They still haunted her. "Lord Baelish has a habit of bringing out my worst impulses."

"Litt-Littlefinger is _here_?" 

"Yes. He declared for House Stark. Without his men, the Northerners wouldn't have supported me against Ramsay."

"Still....I saw him in Harrenhal, conspiring with Tywin Lannister. Do you think he..."

"Had a hand in Father? No I do not. He's slimy, selfish and only a fool would trust him, but he seemed to genuinely love Mother in his own twisted way."

Arya almost retched, "As you say. But when the time comes do not hold me back from slitting his rat throat."

Sansa nodded, "I will not. You have my word as queen."

Arya's expression changed again, as if she was seeing Sansa for the first time.

"You changed so much, elder sister. Here you stand, Queen in the North, heir to Robb and I.....am just a killer."

"Do not ever think that way, Arya!"

"It's true though....I left Westeros and fell in with a guild of assasins who taught me their trade. I learned enough that I was able to kill without difficulty. But something happened and I opted out of the program. They tried to kill me but I booked passage home."

Sansa seemed to realize something, "You killed the Freys."

"I did....Along with a few others. Most of the people I wanted to kill are already dead yet one remains. Cersei Lannister." 

"When the time comes, I will not hold you back yet we must be smart about this. Myrcella is queen and she imprisoned Cersei last I heard."

"_You're_ my only queen. I do not recognize the crown of any damn Lannister." Arya insisted hotly.

"Myrcella is not like the others, nor is Tyrion. If we are to survive, an alliance might be the only way."

"Survive?"

Sansa braced herself. She would have to now tell her sister about the true doom that awaited them.

"Seven Hells Sansa....."

"Aye..."

"How many?"

"Meera says a hundred thousand at least."

"Meera Reed? Her father...didn't he save Father's life during the Rebellion?"

"Aye, he did. And she looks no slouch with a blade either."

Arya frowned, "Well I'm probably better."

Sansa giggled, "Are you jealous?"

"No..i'm just saying...I'd love a sparring match."

"Well I don't know how long we have before the Wall falls so hurry your butt up."

"They're really coming for us?" Arya for the first time actually looked worried. 

"I believe that they are. Jon fought them...he lost. It's all fallen on us now. Bran says he cannot be King in the North though I offered it to him. If I lose..if I fall...."

"Sansa...."

"You must lead the North. It's grown up time. Whether or not you want it. whether or not you admit it, you are a princess now."

Arya seemed to only realize this as Sansa said it. 

"But.....I'll be rubbish at it! It's good I am who I am. I'd be terrible at anything else."

"Don;t ever say that. You will be a good queen, baby sister."

Arya was still apprehensive but seemed to relent.

At the next council meeting, Sansa announced the survival of her siblings.

"It is my pleasure to announce that Prince Brandon and Princess Arya have made it back to us after many years in exile. Please treat their orders as if they came from my own mouth if I am not here. I know some of you would support Bran as king but he has abdicated all claim to the North in favor of myself. But that is not the only reason why I have called you here today, my lords. The worst possible news has been confirmed to me. The Army of the Dead is on the march and is heading south to kill us all. Immediately after recieving this confirmation, I ordered all scholars i have to begin a search for any dragonglass we can find. It can be used to destroy them, as can fire. To that end, I want to stockpile pitch and coal here at Winterfell for here is where we shall make our stand against the dead. 

It is time that we show this world who we are! We are the North and we are the first line of defence against what is out there! My late brother was Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. He faced what we are about to face and he lost. But I promise you, my lords, as long as I am here, I will never let the North fall to terrible darkness. We must stand and fight! Their numbers will count for nothing at the walls! 

I will fight them on my own if I must but Princess Arya has pledged herself with me! Are you all with me too?! ARE YOU WITH YOUR QUEEN?"

A tremendous shout broke out as the Northern lords began chanting and cheering, drawing their greatswords.

"THE QUEEN IN THE NORTH! THE QUEEN IN THE NORTH! THE QUEEN IN THE NORTH!

As soon as Sansa recieved the news of what was heading for her, she wrote and sent ravens to all the disparate factions of Westeros as well as any Essosi who may listen. Soon enough this letter would reach Myrcella. 

_Queen Myrcella and King Trystane. _

_I unfortunately cannot bend my knee to you, as that would be an insult to all Northmen who died in our struggle for independence. However, I am formally requesting you to form a mutual alliance with me, not against Daenerys but against all of mankind's common enemy. Death marches on the Wall and if we do not unite and put all our differences aside, Death will destroy us. I hope this plea reaches you in time because I do not know how long we have. Negotiate peace with the Dragon Queen for that is a fight you cannot win. March with me and save all of our people. To speak more about this matter, I would like a Queen's Summit at Riverrun. Bring only a few trusted guards or I will not show. I am offering you a white flag. Do not betray me._

_signed,_

_Sansa Stark, Queen of the North, Vale and Trident._

"Do you think she'll even try?" asked Meera when Sansa informed her of the plan.

"We must have hope."

"She's surrounded herself with such men as the Kingslayer. Even if she listens to you, the Martell boy is King and he will listen to his father over her."

"I know, Lady Meera. it's a risk...But it's one we must take in order to survive. Nobody hates or mistrusts the Lannisters more than I but if the dead get south, I do not beleive such things will matter."

"As you say, Your Grace. We love our queen. Whatever you think is best."

Sansa smiled gently. In only a few short days, herself and Meera had become almost confidants. 

Meera hesitated and turned away,

"What is it?"

"It's...it's nothing." she shook her head. 

"Please Meera." Sansa let a soft hand fall upon the ravenhead's shoulder. 

"It's just....I would like a place in your Queensguard...but Father will not approve."

"I am queen, sweet Meera. You only need my approval...and you have it. You're the first person in thousands of years to kill a White Walker. Please kneel....then rise again as Ser Meera of the Queensguard."


	9. Sansa's Crush

Meera was almost driven to tears.

“T-Thank you, my queen. It is truly an honor. I hope I will make you proud.”

“It is who you have always been, sweet Meera. Perhaps I wanted to just do one good thing before we die.”

Meera turned serious and grim, “Do not speak that way. You are queen of three kingdoms, and if you can’t lead us to victory, I fear nobody can.”

Sansa smiled sadly, “I truly wish that were true, but I fear I am only a pale imitation of my brothers and father-“

“Your Grace?”

It had been several days since her letter to Queen Myrcella, and Sansa hadn’t been expecting an answer. Maester Wolkan shakily hobbled in and squeaked

“L-Letter from King’s Landing Your Grace, with a Crowned Stag seal. Unbroken. News from Dragonstone.”

“Thank you, Maester.”

Meera frowned, “What did she say?”

Wolkan was downcast. “They will not come.”

Sansa’s eyes widened as she continued to read the message, “Myrcella would like to meet. At Riverrun, she says. No weapons, only a white flag. She won’t send her armies until she hears it from me personally. I’ll give her this, she’s better than her mother. Yet still a fool. Does she think I’m making this up? Damn them! Damn them both!”

“There is more, Your Grace. The War of the Queens is in full sway. The Dragon Queen’s forces are landing at Blackwater Rush to attack Farring Cross. It seems she hopes to draw Myrcella to open battle.”

“Aye, that is what I would do. Yet we must proceed as if we are expecting no help from the others. I knew Myrcella once, but the people surrounding her are different. She named the Kingslayer to the Small Council, the very man who attacked my father, and produced Joffrey. No, I shall hear no more of this. At the Red Wedding, my brother answered a lord’s summon. My grandfather came south once at a king’s demand.”

“Yet the White Walkers-“

‘I’ve done all I can, Meera! I sent them ravens. If I bend the knee, I’ll be conscripting my people into their wars. That I will never do.”

Meera bowed, “As you say, my queen. We all love our queen, and we trust you.”

“Your Grace,” bowed Wolkan.

“Your Grace, I beg a word.” This time it was Petyr Baelish, leader of the Vale knights. Sansa had stomached him for weeks, but she didn’t know how much more she could take. Arya was home now and she desperately wanted a crack at the man. _You sold me, you rat. And you declare for me, why? To get your gnarled hands up my dress? Pah. Your plan failed, old man. I don’t trust you anymore. I have no idea why I did in the first place._

“Yes? What is it? I’m busy. Many things need a queen’s attention.”

“Of course, Your Grace”, he hissed slyly. “But many don’t feel that way. They grow frustrated with your…stories of dead men, and rumors reach my ears of you consorting with lions?”

“What are you insinuating, Lord Baelish?” Sansa stepped menacingly toward him.

“I insinuate nothing, my queen. I am loyal to you, you must know that by now…how much I love you. Many know without the Vale, you faced certain defeat. Have you forgotten, Your Grace?”

Sansa shook her head and turned away.

“No….I know in the Battle of Falcons and Wolves, the falcons rode to my aid only because of your suggestion. I would have died in the mud with my men if not for you….but that doesn’t mean I have forgiven you for sending me North to begin with. I need only command it and you shall fall upon Arya’s sword.”

Baelish stared at her, curiously, and then with a look of mockery. “And my men?”

“Don’t you worry. You taught me much and I know how to spin a story. Threaten me again and I will command Arya to do it.”

“Who threatened you?” he tried to play ignorant. This man….

“I’m not my father. I’m not my brothers, and I’m not my uncle. I know the way this game is played, Lord Baelish.”

She turned to the window and stared out at the countryside. “It’s beautiful isn’t it? It’s my home. Always was. Ask Lord Royce. Ask any of them. Do they fight for you…or for this? For me? Something to ponder for yourself. Who can rule without loyalty or love?”

Sansa called a Council of her officers, to discuss what to do.

“I received a message from Queen Myrcella..She wishes to meet to discuss my peace terms….and I’m considering it.”

Immediately there was a massive uproar, shouting from the lords in the room.

“Now surely she misspoke-“ started Baelish but they wouldn’t have it.”

“FOOK THE SOUTHERNERS.”

“The Queen in the North should stay in the North!”

“Let the incestuous bitch rot!”

_“SILENCE!”_ snarled Sansa. Immediately they went quiet. Even now, she commanded respect but also a touch of fear, such was her presence. Her wolf crown glittered in the fading light.

“Your Grace….permission to speak freely.’ Began Lyanna Mormont. “You are our queen but do not make this terrible mistake. Your brother went south once and was slaughtered at the Red Wedding. I beg you, my queen, do not consort with the Lannisters. They put your father to death.”

“I need no reminding of _that,_ Lady Lyanna. He was my father long before he was your liege lord. Yet as I have explained many times before, I do not believe I can defeat one hundred thousand wights with forty thousand of my knights. I am told they have giants. I am told they have ice spiders. We cannot face this alone.”

Meera stepped forward, “My name is Meera Reed, newest member of Her Grace’s Queensguard. I slew one of them. I know this is hard to take but I promise you all, the threat is real. The White Walkers are real and they are heading our way. If you wish to fight them by yourselves you’re welcome to sit in your own keeps and wait until they get to you. But I promise you, uniting behind our queen is our best hope of survival!”

Sansa’s cheeks blushed. _Meera…what is this feeling for Meera? _Yet deep down she knew what was happening. This same deep admiration for her strength and beauty, she felt it before….for a certain other queen that she had lost three months past. Murdered by the Mad Lion Cersei. _One day…one day I shall have my revenge._

There was a deep terrible silence for quite a while before Bran spoke up, “I’ve seen them. I’ve seen one die before my eyes. As the dragon queen fights in the Crownlands, she leaves Dragonstone unoccupied.”

Sansa nods, “Good idea, brother. We can send a party of men there and mine it unnoticed. I shall give the order. As for the rest of you, continue your training. I appreciate your concerns, I truly do. None hate Cersei more than I. But Myrcella is not her mother no more than I am Ramsay my former husband.” _I hope. “_Now I must retire. If you have any further demands, Meera can speak for me.” Meera flashed her a proud, excited grin and Sansa blushed, grinining back.

“You honored me, Your Grace.” Meera came running after her after another hour of shouting. “I do not know how you do it…ruling. I’m lucky I am who I am. I’d be rubbish at anything else.”

“You undersell yourself, Meera. It’s alright.”

Meera smiled warmly, but then became slightly sad. “When I think back…my father saved yours. Yet I was unable to save my brother.”

“We must ensure he did not die for nothing. I have a small army of guards surrounding Bran every hour of every day.”

“T-Thank you, Your Grace. But you named me to protect you too, and I fear-“

Sansa placed a soft hand on Meera’s cheek. It was very soft and warm. I want to touch more-stop it! “Do not fear, dear gallant knight. You’re my friend and I will always protect you.”

Just a friend? Neither said it. Neither dared to. Instead they decided on a long, tight embrace, pressing their breasts together. Neither would say anything and neither wanted to. This was a small yet powerful moment, that they shared between each other and nothing, not even the end of the world, would destroy that.

“That meeting could have gone better.” Sansa chuckled to her brother and sister later that night in her chambers.

“Impudent little shits. I should have their heads! I heard the other day some people talking about how they should have crowned me queen instead! They’re saying you’re um…too predisposed to Meera.”

What? How dare they? Yet a tiny little voice in Sansa’s mind knew what they were speaking of. Her crush on the Queensguard was only growing.

“I think as Queen in the North, it’s well within my rights to trust and like my own guards-“

“Yes but Sans, we……we just want you to be careful, Sans.”

Sansa sighed regretfully. ‘I know, Arya. Much has been on my mind and Meera….she makes me forget, even if for a moment.”

Arya smirked knowingly, “I will not judge you on the account of Meera being a girl, but wanting to fuck a Queensguard? Scandalous!”

Sansa squeaked indignantly, “Excuse you by all the Gods, Arya. I do not want to fuck Meera!”

“Does my queen protest just a bit too much?” Arya teased.

“Is this how you choose to speak to the Queen in the North? Why, I should have you thrown in the brig!” Sansa teased back. Arya giggled and tickled Sansa’s tummy.

“Brat!” she squealed.

“My princess, please! The queen does not have time for such things,” said Briene indignantly.

“It’s quite alright, Brienne. Put your sword away,” laughed Sansa. “Yet perhaps you’re right. The dead march on us, and will bring down the Wall any day now.”

“Sooner than that. But before that, we must deal with a traitor in our midst, sister.” Said Bran in his mysterious, misty voice.


	10. The Great War Arrives

Lord Petyr Baelish came into the Great Hall. The queen had requested his presence with some urgency. Now he stood staring up at her, as she sat on the Snow Throne. 

"Your Grace."

Sansa fixed her steely icy gaze upon the man. 

"Lord Baelish," she almost growled, near unable to contain her anger. At her flanks, were Bran, her brother, Arya the wild assassin sister, and Meera and Brienne, her two Queensguards. "Without your armies, Ramsay Bolton would still hold this castle. However recent....rumors have reached my ears regarding other matters. Matters of treason. Matters of murder. Matters of betraying my family. Now...I ask you....why have you betrayed us?"

To say he was stunned was an understatement.

"Y-Your Grace, forgive me.....I am a bit confused."

"Which part? Which part confuses you? Because I have received a message detailing your betrayal of my father."

"i did no such-" he tried to say.

"You held a knife to his throat. You said I did warn you not to trust me". Before this, you murdered Jon Arryn and tried to pin it on the Lannisters. The war between the Starks and the Lannisters was engineered by you." said Bran in his cold, whistful voice. 

"I know of no such-I deny this! Sansa, your father....I begged him to seize the moment, to take power in the capital but he wouldn't listen-"

"I have heard enough of your lies, you little rat! You got me raped and now I learn you betrayed my father. Without you, I would still have a father. Without you, i would still have my brothers. Without you, we are all safer."

"Your Grace, I pledged my loyalty! I loved you-" Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Arya stalking towards him.

"Silence. I will not let you speak another word of your poison! For the crime of treason and murder, I sentence Petyr Baelish to death." Even the Vale Lords who were supposedly loyal, did nothing to stop her after learning who was jon Arryn's true killer. 

He could only gurgle and beg one last time before Arya sliced his throat open, and let him bleed out onto the floor. 

"Someone burn that." Sansa said, nodding towards Meera. "We do not want to fight him again." 

She turned to the council.

"But this should be a warning, my lords. I will lead you into the Great War for you chose me to do so. Betray me and you will pay with your life as you have seen here today, and the fate of this man. Weeks ago, House Frey had winter come for them as well, at the hands of Princess Arya." Some gasped at that. "Perhaps my father would disapprove of his children's tactics...perhaps I will face his judgement in the afterlife. Yet for the time being, it seems you are stuck with me. On my command, as soon as the Wall falls, pull all our forces back to Winterfell. If no help comes from the south within three days, I will send another envoy to treat with them. I know many among you disagree about allying with the lions and the dragon but circcumstances are what they are, and we must survive this war."

The lords cheeered and yelled "Queen in the North!" For the time being, it seemed, Sansa had consolidated her rule. 

Sansa stared out at the balcony of the castle walls, grimly. Her friend and Queensguard Meera came up beside her. 

"Your Grace..."

"I'm alright, Meera. No need to check on me."

"I am your Queensguard, Your Grace. I am to protect you in all things, however way I can." 

Sansa smiled warmly and lovingly. She truly admired the younger woman's loyalty and courage. In the few weeks they knew each other, they had grown quite close and Sansa even wondered if the darker haired woman had a bodyguard crush on her. Yet something deep inside Sansa held her back. She didn;t know what, yet. Perhaps she didn't want to find out.

"Are you alright, Your Grace?"

Sansa was more harsh than she ever intended to be. "A dead army marches on the Wall, and we are hopelessly outnumbered. Daenerys and Myrcella are at war in the south. I killed a man I believed in his own way, loved me. My brother is dead inside. My sister is a Faceless Woman."

Meera looked ashamed and turned away, "Apologies my queen....it was a foolish question."

"Nonsense, Meera. You were only trying to do your job."

Sansa gazed into Meera's eyes and detected only earnest devotion and a little bit of desire. A hint of a blush crept onto Sansa's cheeks._ Stop it, cheeks....It cannot be, Meera. I'm sorry._

"You will protect us. You are our queen, and I know you will do what is right." _If only I had that same faith in myself. _

"I try to do what is right...yet i cannot help but feel I might be failing Robb and my father."

"My own father never wanted me to learn how to fight, you know....He never even told me any stories about the Rebellion. But I learned anyway from Jojen...." she cut herself off, anguished. Sansa looked upon her sympathetically, and without hardly thinking, gathered Meera into a soft gentle embrace. Maybe it will work out, she thought as Meera's warmth pulsed through her.

Sansa ordered all the dragonglass from Dragonstone to be brought to Winterfel and mined to form weapons. According to her scouts, Daenerys had indeed abandoned it, and her men were able to mine it in peace. She added leather to her soldier's armor, and stocked Winterfell with enough provisions to survive a siege, regardless of which direction that siege came from. She feared having to go herself to negotiate an alliance and soon enough she may have no other choice. She looked up and saw the anti dragon scorpions she ordered the construction of, and wondered if it would really have to come to that. 

Starks die when they go south, she reminded herself. _Grandfather, Uncle Brandon, Father, and then Robb....and now I've lost two more brothers. How much more can you take from me, Old Gods? How much can I take before I go mad like so many other monarchs in this land? _She missed Jon every single day and wondered if he would approve of her. _jon probably would have gone south by now to meet with the southern queens. I am not Jon. Daenerys would just as likely behead me as talk to me. But I would have helped you, Jon. I would have called you king. Why did you die on me? _

She was snapped out of her thoughts when her Maester, sweating and panicked, knocked at the door.

"Y-your Grace, please..."

"Come in. What is it?"

"News from King's Landing", he said, his voice shakey. 

"Daenerys is victorious and was crowned Queen in the South," Sansa read the message aloud. "But at great cost. Jaime killed one at the Battle of Blackwater Rush. Euron Greyjoy killed the other two dragons in an ambush off the coast. No word on Myrcella but the pro Targaryen forces are occupying the city despite heavy losses at the hands of the Lannister-Dornish garrison. Tyrion is her Hand, and he's trying to placate the southern lords after the siege."

Sansa threw the message away. It meant very little. Dragons worried her almost as much as the dead did and if they had all fallen, the North's cause didn't look quite as hopeless. In spite of this, if Winterfell survived the war against the dead, Daenerys still had more than enough to destroy any survivors, especially now that she was unopposed Queen in the South. Her thoughts turned to Myrcella who likely was either in chains or dead. _I'm sorry Myrcella...I hope the Dragon Queen is merciful. I can't help right now._

"Another message...from Castle Black." the Maester almost whispered, terrified. Dread filled Sansa to the core. She almost dared not open the letter. When she finally did, it said

_The Wall is breached Most of the Watch are dead. Run._

It was scribbly, perhaps written in haste by a wildling. The war was here...not only was there nothing Sansa could do about it anymore, but nobody was coming to help this time.

_House Stark is alone. This is our final stand._


	11. Sansa's Doom Arrives

"As soon as I heard about the Wall," Queen Sansa was booming to her council and Queensguard, "I sent ravens to all the houses of Westeros, calling both our banners and anyone who may be willing to help, to make our stand at Winterfell."

Doom had arrived, and while Sansa had been grimly preparing for war for many months, the loss of any hope of dragons or reinforcements from the south hurt more than she expected. 

_Could I have done more? Perhaps met with the Dragon Queen to discuss an alliance? No....A Stark will never go south again. I did what I could, sending envoys. After all, they did secure the dragonglass at least._ Though Sansa remembered that Daenerys had no use for the substance to begin with. If she pushed any further, it would have permanently destabilized relations between the two factions. _Robb died for independence and I am not one to dishonor my brother or his memory. _

She mourned for the fate of the south, embroiled into yet more chaos and wished she could help Myrcella in some capacity. _But if Myrcella has left us to die, then so be it. _The fate of the First Men of the North has always been standing alone against invaders, whether it was the Ironborn when they got cheeky, the Andals, and finally the Lannisters. I fought them back, Robb. I kicked the Boltons out. Yet I fear my luck has run out. I don't know if I can fight off both whoever wins in the south, and the dead at the same time.

"To fight off this coming attack, I have ordered the digging of various trenches filled with dragonglass-tipped spikes and pitch. This according to Lady Meera, is the only way to destroy them. As outnumbered as we are, numbers count for nothing against high walls. I will position the Valelord spear-wall directly behind the gate. My own Northern troops behind them to hold the keep. Uncle," Edmure stepped forward, grimly nodding and his armor clanging. "I want your men with the Vale on the walls. Your archers will be key to winning this battle."

"As you wish, my queen." he growled, kneeling. "If I may, my queen.....can we expect any help from the rest of the south?"

"I sent ravens...None returned. I'm sorry Uncle.." her voice cracked slightly. "We must fight this terrible battle alone. It was the honor of my life, my lords, the day you declared me your queen and since that day, I have strove to honor that, and rule as best I can. Some feel I failed. That I let the Wall fall on my watch. We still don't know how that happened or why, but do not mistake me. To most of the world, this threat was mere legend, a children's story. If not for the Lord Commander, my brother and Meera, I fear I may not have believed in it myself. Yet now that our Enemy has arrived, I vow that we will not. Give. A. Single. Inch. We will fight them to the last!" She boomed commandingly.

A great cheer arose from amongst her officers.

"The Queen in the North!" they cried. Some also cried "The Red Wolf!"

Meera drew her sword and raised it, "What our queen says is true. We cannot defeat them head to head. Prince Bran says there is over a hundred thousand of them out there. If we march out to meet them, this army will be slaughtered and our enemy made even more powerful. This is an army that you cannot negotiate with, an army that does not leave corpses behind, and an army that feels no fear or pain. I will command the left flank. Lady Brienne will command the right flank. Lady Brienne."

Brienne spoke up, "I am Brienne of Tarth, Queensguard to Queen Sansa. My flank will be holding the left side of the wall as the wights come in. When they do, we will spring a fire arrow that will set alight the entire field outside. We know they are destroyed by fire and dragonglass, so Queen Sansa ensured all of us are armed with such a substance, as well as torches soaked in pitch carried amongst each division. When their ranks begin to thin, our shield wall will push them back. But this won't end until we destroy the Walkers."

Prince Bran spoke up in his wistful, aloof voice. "He will come. He will come for me. The Night King. He has wanted to slay the Three Eyed Raven for centuries."

"Then it is absolutely imperative you remain in the keep, Bran," said the queen. "You will be the last line of defence if all else fails. Could you get into the mind and control one of the Walkers?"

"I could try." he said in his quiet cold voice.

"Then that is our battle plan. Hold them off as long as we can, and if we cannot, buy time for Bran to do...what he does. We all protect my brother."

Sansa nodded toward Arya, "Princess Arya....you will have command of Bran's Princeguard. Pick twenty Northerners you trust above all else and stay with our brother."

Arya smiled with determination and love, "I will, Your Grace."

Sansa looked away, pained for a brief moment. _I was awful, Arya. I do not deserve such devotion. _

A few hours later, there was commotion at the gates, and Tormund and a few ragged survivor willdings came in through the gate. 

"What news?" demanded Queen Sansa. "How far away are the dead?"

Tormund looked confused. "We never saw them. We thought they were ahead of us but then we saw Winterfell. As we escaped Eastwatch, it didnt look like they were trying to chase us."

"Send out scouts to confirm," ordered Sansa to her officers who nodded. "We must know when they intend to strike us."

A strange feeling of dread fell over Sansa's body. She didn't know why the dead were taking so long. Worsened by the next news to arrive.

"My queen...news from the south."

"Our doom has come. Daenerys is officially queen in the South, even without her three main weapons. King's Landing has been sacked by her troops, which includes the full might of the Reach and Dorne. Before long she will look my way....Even if we defeat the dead, she will have more than enough to destroy the survivors."

She threw her head into her hands in frustration. 

"My queen, please!" shouted Brienne. "This isn't over yet. Do you remember when I convinced you not to attack Ramsay by yourself, not to give up? I need you to do that again."

"Aye Brienne....but this is a far different situation. Myrcella is defeated, dead for all I know. And the Dragon Queen is determined to unite all of Westeros under her. If my brother were here...."

"Your brother loved you. His war has come to our doorstep. If we are to survive it, you must become strong, stronger than you've ever been! Meera and I will be there by your side. I vow it." She laid Oathkeeper down at her feet. "I have served you for months and will continue to serve you, even die by your side if it comes to it. You are your mother's daughter. You're our queen."

Sansa wiped her nose, and stood back up. _Brienne is right. I cannot give up. Not just yet. _

Daenerys' victory in the south was definitely concerning. The death of the dragons was mostly due to King Euron, another threat to us. Drogon was shot down when surrender negotiations went sour, rumors said. Apparently a shot was fired, and it was directly into his throat. In a rage, Daenerys attacked the camp and slaughtered half of Myrcella's army that day. After that, it was only a matter of time before the capital fell to the Targaryens. While Sansa was somewhat relieved her anti dragon weaponry wasn't required anymore, her North-Vale-Trident kingdom could not stand forever against a united south. A reckoning was coming, even if they got past the Night King.

Yet weeks were going by and the Night King had not come. The Northern army was growing restless and anxious. Temperatures were rising as winter was approaching in earnest.

If the dead did not come soon, they'd all starve. 

"Our provisions are growing lower by the day, Your Grace." said Lord Manderly. "It's been a week since the fall of the Wall and the defeat of the Lion Queen."

"I am doing the best I can, my lord! Our scouts say that the dead has not moved away from the breach in the Wall at Eastwatch. They are almost...waiting us out."

"Or baiting us into marching out to face them" said Lord Reed, who saved Father's life in the Rebellion. Meera's father.

"Father might be right. It's a sound military tactic. If we march out into the snows, this army will be obliterated and the North left defenseless." _Oh Meera...if we survive, I want to kiss you._

"Yet if we stay, we'll starve to death..." Sansa threw her head into her hands...._So it has come to this. No matter what I do, we are all going to die....I failed them, Robb._

"Yes," boomed Lord Reed. "It's a terrible situation. The Walkers know exactly what they need to do to defeat us...._nothing_. Only wait it out. Your brother was defeated not only because he broke the pact with Walder Frey but because he ran out of time to defeat the Lannister army in the field. We had a plan to defeat an enemy that was heading right for us, yet what can we do against a hundred thousand wights with only our forty thousand strong at best?"

"It looks bad," agreed Princess Arya, "But I am with you, elder sister. To the very end. I love you." She kissed Sansa on her hand, who smiled lovingly in spite of everything. _I love you too, Arya._

"What are your orders, my queen?" said Lord Reed, Meera looking on beside him.

Sansa peered through her hands, and looked at Meera and Arya who nodded with grim determination.

"I will not meekly freeze and starve, my knights.....We will ride out and meet our deaths face to face! We will make them pay for every single inch! And they will know that not even now, outnumbered, starving and outmatched, will the Direwolf not fly on our banners! TO WAR!"

"RED WOLF! RED WOLF! RED WOLF!" her army cried as a long column poured out of Winterfell, their armor and banners glimmering in the dimming sun. Indeed, the direwolf flew high and proud, even if it was for likely the final time.


	12. The Red God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Queen Sansa and her army march to the final confrontation against the Night King.

Their doom had arrived. The Army of the Dead had come to finish off humanity, and all that truly stood in its way was a few brave souls. Outnumbered and facing total starvation, Sansa ordered her armies to sally forth to the Breach. Doing this, she hoped, she’d buy time for the civilians, those who were unable to fight, to escape on boats to Essos and south to Dorne. Out of love for their queen, and unwillingness to wait to die behind their cold walls, the armies of the North raised and flew the Crowned Direwolf banner.

Slowly but surely, the long column of the North-Vale-Trident-Free Folk host marched out to what may likely be their final battle. Her crown gleaming and ceremonial royal armor shining, Queen Sansa breathed with apprehension yet also calm acceptance. Ever since learning of the deaths of Jon and Rickon and a seemingly unstoppable threat breaching the Wall, Sansa had found it hard to go on, to have any hope at all.

The only thing that kept her alive…was sweet Meera. Ever by her side, in full Reed armor, rode Lady Meera, her sworn shield, her Queensguard…what else she was, Sansa wasn’t quite sure._ I did promise to kiss her if we survive this. _

It was not something Sansa ever imagined she would feel, so strongly for another woman. If you didn’t live in the Reach or Dorne, it was a shameful thing. Yet why if it feels so right? Why must this be the way of the world?

Sansa’s scouts told her they were a few hour's ride from Eastwatch. The dead were still having a close eye kept on them. Not long after leaving the walls, they came across a band of like minded warriors, who called themselves the Brotherhood.

Arya was first to them and started threatening them, “You sold Gendry to the Red Woman. I should kill you all!”

“I wonder if you would not be wise to, Princess.” Said Thoros. “We respected your father. If he were here, he would let us pass to speak to your sister. I’m truly sorry about the boy, but the Lord of Light demanded a sacrifice.”

“Yeah well, he’s not here.” Snarled Arya. “ Neither are half my brothers. So back off back where you came from or I’ll introduce you to the real god.”

More guards came and demanded to know who they were.

“We’re allies, my lords. Let us speak to your queen.” Said their leader, Beric Dondarrion.

“I am here.” Said Sansa, striding up to them in her armor. “State your business, my lord.”

“My business?” he darkly chuckled. “Same as yours, I imagine. We only just barely escaped the fall of Eastwatch and managed to make it south, thinking the dead would follow.”

“Then you are not my enemy. We need every man we can find. As of this moment, I have forty thousand strong.”

Beric’s eyes gleamed, “The dead have more.”

“Aye, they do.”

“Then you ride to your deaths.” Growled a burned man who was with them. The Hound, some called him. Sandor Clegane.

“Lord Clegane.” Nodded Sansa. He scoffed.

“So little bird, you have a crown on your head. Seems I underestimated you.”

Sansa smirked, “You are not the first to make that mistake.”

“So I heard. Heard you won the Battle of the Falcon and Wolf.” _I will never get used to that name. Though I suppose they have to differentiate it from the battle between Stannis and the Boltons._

“I saw that victory in the flames. We would offer our services, and call you our queen…if we would ride with you this day.” Said Beric.

Sansa looked briefly to Meera and Brienne who guarded her flanks, and turned back to Beric to nod at him.

“We need all the men we can get. Our plan is to buy time for the women and children to escape. If you have any sick or children with you, send them south right away.”

“As you wish…my queen.” He smiled at her.

“Am I gonna die in this frozen shitheap?” snarled Sandor.

Sansa merely darkly chuckled, “Would that be such a bad thing? Better than a place that’s burning.”

Beric then stepped forward and presented the queen with a sword.

“When we were at the Wall, I found a sword that they said belonged to your brother, Jon. Nobody else claimed it…I suppose it now belongs to you, Queen Sansa.”

He unveiled the sword and Sansa noticed something.

“It’s Valyrian Steel.”

“Aye…Longclaw. The ancestral sword of House Mormont whom ride with you this day. I believe Jon would have wanted you to have it, however.”

“T-thank you.” _At least I have something to remember Jon by. _

Finally, the army of the Dead had come within eyesight. Still they didn’t move an inch, though their supposed leader, the Night King was perched atop a hill watching them….

Sansa called a final War Council.

“We’re here because we didn’t want to slowly starve to death within our walls. Our enemy knows this. They drew us out. But we know also that we cannot defeat them. Our mission tomorrow is simply to hold the shield wall as long as possible, so that our people may have a chance to escape south to warmer pastures. I know it’s asking a lot of you and your men, my lords…..yet when you crowned me Queen that day, I vowed to myself that I would do whatever it took to protect my people.

We can either go back to Winterfell and watch as our families, homes and people freeze and starve as the dead go from village to village becoming ever stronger and more unstoppable. Or we can make a stand here…and die like men.”

“The Red Wolf! Red Wolf! Red Wolf!” the chant echoed through the tent.

When it died down, Brienne began speaking, “As Her Grace stated, our plan is to form a shield wall and hold it as long as we can. As the dead approach, we fire everything we have at them with our archers. That will take down some of them. Then when they hit the shield wall, I will command the light cavalry to ride around the flanks and hit them in the sides to drive them closer to our centre. They positioned themselves just south of the breach they created. That means there is a gigantic wall on each side. As they push on our centre, move our flanks forward. Then they’ll be surrounded on three sides and the only way back is back through the breach.”

“I’ve fought them. They won’t be baited so easily.” Said Meera. “They mindlessly charge without thought of risk to themselves.

“Perhaps this doesn’t need to be the end,” said Beric. “We don’t have a chance of killing every single Walker….We don't need to. We just need to kill_ him_.” He pointed to the hill where the Night King was standing. “He turned them all.”

Sansa shook her head, ”Even if you got close….there's thousands of them out there, my lord. Wight Giants, wight wolves, wight bears.”

“Aye it’s a bad plan…..better than yours.”

Sansa smirked at his insolence. But Lady Commander Brienne was furious, “Speak to the queen again in such a way..!”

“And we will run you through,” said Ser Meera. _I love you Meera._

“If we all die tomorrow, it won’t exactly matter. I welcome your blade.”

Sansa held up her hand, “Not tonight…my lord. Not tonight.”

“As long as I kill some of those ice fuckers.” Growled Sandor.

Suddenly there was a horn and shouting.

“Let me pass and speak to the queen,’ said the new arrival. When she took her cloak off, it revealed a red haired middle aged woman with a mysterious smirk adorning her beautiful face. Sansa almost blushed. Her newfound bisexuality was not doing her any favors. Please calm down, Sansa. She might be an enemy.

Sansa’s Queensguard rushed forward and put swords at her throat but the Red Woman did not flinch.

“One more step and I will cut your throat!” yelled Arya.

The Woman fixed her fiery eyes upon her, and looked a bit disturbed. “I believe it. You have killed….many people.” Arya proudly smiled, as if to say “Hell yes I did.” “But I have died before, child. Try it and see what will happen.”

“Enough, Arya! What is the meaning of this?” demanded Sansa who rushed forward, with Beric and his party following behind her.

“Sansa, let me do it.” Arya yelled. “She had Gendry killed. She’s evil.”

“The boy escaped, my princess. You need not fear me. You need not fear anything for much longer.”

Arya slightly calmed herself. Sansa put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, “I will deal with this. We’re a few hours away from the war. Trust me, ok, baby sister?”

Arya didn’t like it but lowered her Needle, "When this is over...I'll have her head." _Oh Seven Hells….War is easier than sisters. _

“We should speak alone.” Said the Red Woman.

“No. Whatever you must say, you can say it to my siblings as well. Go get Bran” she ordered to Brienne.

After the Stark siblings were assembled, Sansa said, “Alright now who are you and what do you want?”

“To save this world, my queen. My name is merely Melisandre. But this is the war I have been preparing for all my life. I am here to help you, to see it through.”

“Well, we need all the help we can get, but my sister does not like or trust you. Give me one good reason why I should.”

“Do you have any other choice, my queen? I am not your enemy. I never was. I thought your brother was the Prince that was Promised but….I failed to bring him back to life.”

Sansa remembered being briefly told about Melisandre's attempt to save her brother but thought nothing of it at the time. 

“I was lost…adrift. I thought nothing mattered. That my God had betrayed me….until the fall of the Wall. Beric was crushed by rubble so I tried bringing him back. Why, I didn’t know. It had already failed with your brother. But for some reason, the Lord of Light answered me again. Beric breathed again….and my hope was restored. The Lord of Light would not have brought Beric back unless he had some specific purpose in this fight he must fulfill. Same is true for you, my queen. If you weren’t part of His plan, you would not sit upon your throne.”

Sansa let that sink in, but then Arya demanded, “So what? Get to the point. How could you help us in battle? You are no warrior or assassin as I am.”

“No…I am not, pretty princess. But I have information. Your brother was not the Prince who was Promised, nor Stannis either…but _someone _has to be. I am here now to do my part in helping that person succeed.”

Sansa remembered something, “Beric, he believes in your God? He says we don’t need to kill every single one of the dead…just one. Just their King. He turned them all.”

“That makes sense, my queen. It would explain how they survived the last war we fought. Where the Last Hero, the Prince that was Promised, arose and forged Lightbringer by piercing the chest of someone he loved. He rallied the living and led them to victory.”

Sansa’s breath chilled, “Are…are you saying one of us has to kill their wife?”

“Not necessarily. Just someone they love.”

Sansa turned to her brother, “Is this something you can see?”

“I will try, Sansa.”

“Very well.”

It was a tiny glimmer of hope, but it was hope nonetheless. _The First Men thousands of years ago…they stood here in my position, and now it is I who is taking the fight to the Walkers. I never asked for this, never wanted it. If we die tomorrow, I will stand proud knowing I did everything I could._

“We’re still vastly outnumbered. How would we get Lightbringer into the heart of the Night King even if this works?”

“I do not know, my queen.” Said Melisandre. “The sword that was set alight by Stannis was not the true Lightbringer. In truth, I only have faith in the prophecy. There is no certainty it will work.”

“Great…” grumbled Sansa. “Die it is.”

Brienne and Meera stepped forward, “Yet it would be an honor to die with you, Your Grace.”

One by one, everyone present kneeled to Sansa, who grimly smiled. _Tomorrow then, Night King…we settle this._

That night, Sansa was perusing over their battle plans when she heard a soft voice behind her,

“Your Grace?”

“Oh, Lady Melisandre. Thank you for coming to my aid but it seems for naught.”

“Hope is not lost. Some would have underestimated you yet here you stand, Queen of the North, Vale and Trident.”

Sansa’s eyes darkened, “For all the good it’s done us…we stand on the brink of our annihilation.”

“I do have other magic we could try, Your Grace. Up here, it is difficult to set alight your weaponry but I can do it with the right incantations.”

“Very well. Tomorrow, ride out to the head of the army and set alight the swords of the cavalry. They’ll hit the dead from the sides as they hit our shield wall.”

“As you wish, Your Grace.” Melisandre seemed to lick her lips “but magic requires….royal blood.”

Sansa slowly backed away, “I am prepared to give my life to save everyone but….surely there is no certainty-“

The older woman simply laughed, “No, no, my queen…not yet anyway…But you must give….yourself to the Lord of Light….All of yourself.”

“I…” Sansa stuttered._ I want Meera, not you, yet_…..the Red Woman was extremely beautiful and alluring in an exotic sort of way.

“When I failed to bring back your brother….I didn’t see any hope. This world and this war…But I returned back to it to help you. Let me help you. I swear I will not hurt you, my queen. There is power in royal blood. Your eldest brother was king, was he not? His blood flows through you.”

Melisandre stepped forward, and took off her robes, revealing a pair of beautiful large breasts. Sansa in her newfound bisexuality had never been one to peep yet she could not help but stare dreamily at the older woman’s nude body.

“You have no husband….no lovers….let me help you. Let me love you.”

The Red Priestess stepped forward and captured the queen’s lips in a searing fiery kiss. It was her first kiss since Ramsay and that almost made her flinch and turn away. But she reminded herself she _killed _Ramsay. He could never hurt anyone ever again. She had also spent the last few months daydreaming over Meera doing the same thing to her.

“Mmmf…” moaned the redhead queen, “I-“

“Sssh…” hummed Melisandre, who continued to passionately Dorne-kiss her queen. Sansa’s gown fell off of her, revealing her teenage nude body and soft breasts. Mel giggled, a wonderful sound in Sansa’s mind, and she captured one of Sansa’s breasts in her mouth, suckling on it. This elicited a moan from the queen who was trying desperately to be quiet.

_She says I must give myself to this strange Red God…I am trying to…but I can’t help but feel like I’m cheating on my sweet Meera! I’m so sorry, Meera but she’s too hard for me to resist…plus she says this is the only way._

Mel slipped down, and gazed upon Sansa’s red pubic hair which existed in a tuft just above her clit, and gave it a slow lick. Sansa’s moans grew louder, until Mel was full on eating Sansa’s pussy.

“Ohhh! Oh my Old Gods! By all my gods, Lady Melisandre I……I never imagined doing this with anyone except Meera.”

“Give yourself to the new gods, Your Grace….you must,” Melisandre whispered, her mouth still full of royal Northern pussy.

_If it is wrong….why does it feel so good?_

Finally, her back arched, and Sansa’s pussy pulsed. Melisandre slipped two fingers deep inside her, and Sansa screamed in illicit, forbidden pleasure._ If this was Dorne, no one would have cared…yet I am queen and I barely know this woma_n…._Why is she making me feel so good? Because I have kingsblood?_ But whatever he reservations about the woman’s intentions, she could not help it. It felt too good to get fucked by her priestess.

“Yess! My lady, show me the true path!” Sansa screamed. “I give myself to you! Ohh, Lady Melisandre keep fucking me! Fuck your queen!” Sansa inwardly shamed herself for being so crude and perverted. But it was taking her over now. The older woman was making love to her ever so sweetly and gently, rocking her fingers back and forth deep inside her queenly pussy. It almost hurt but no more than what Ramsay had done to her. 

Sansa leaned up and passionately kissed her new lover along her neck and captured a nipple in her mouth. Melisandre smiled and continued to fuck Sansa harder. They moaned in unison, their bodies melting together.

The pleasure was almost blindingly strong at this point. Sansa gasped.

“I-think…I think something is happening! I….feel too good!”

“You’re cumming, my queen. Let yourself cum. Give yourself over to the true power of your blood. Feel it. Feel life itself flowing through you. Even if we die tomorrow, you should have one night of pleasure at least.”

“AAAAAHHH, FUUUUCK!” She bellowed, finally spilling all her liquid love all over the makeshift bed in the command tent. She gasped for breath, trying to recover as her pussy continued to pulse. Melisandre simply looked on, amused but also caring.

“I serve you, my queen. Whatever you ask now, I will obey. If you tell me to fall on my sword, I will…for I will know that is my Lord’s command.”

“No need….” Sansa gasped. “If we die tomorrow it won’t exactly matter. But thank you…thank you for showing me sex can be good. I have only ever been forced.”

“I know. I heard the stories as I rode north. But he can’t hurt you. Nobody will, so long as I'm here, my sweet wolf. I won’t let his ghost do anything.”

Sansa chuckled in spite of herself. But her smile dropped into a look of horror and shame when Meera stood in the entrance of the tent, heartbroken at the sight before her.


	13. No Victory Without Sacrifice

“Meera! Meera wait, please!” Sansa, still stark nude, ran out of the tent after her crush, breasts jiggling. But she didn’t care! She had hurt her Meera! Her sweet Meera who she loved!

Meera continued to storm off, and Sansa grew strangely angry with her.

_“I command you to stop in the name of your queen_!” But immediately she regretted it and looked horrified_. I’m so sorry, Meera!_ But Meera merely obeyed and kneeled, her sword draped across her knee.

“Your Grace, please. I do not judge. You’re a queen, you can lay with who you want-“ Meera explained in a sad tone.

_Meera no! I love you!_ “Meera, please, just let me explain! Just because I’m queen doesn’t mean-“ Sansa squeaked desperately.

“My job is to protect you, Your Grace! I have been doing that. No matter what personal feelings I might have-“

“Meera…..What feelings?” Sansa almost smirked. _Am I not alone in this? _

Meera looked ashamed and looked away, “It doesn’t matter anymore…You’re with….her.”

“Meera, no! I did greatly enjoy my time with Lady Melisandre and I would like to do it again but my feelings are far greater for you! I…I love you…”

_Oh Gods….that was the first time I actually said it out loud…to anyone. Please, Meera, forgive me._

But rather than respond, Meera turned and captured Sansa’s face in her hands. Then planted a soft but firm kiss on her lips. She did not say anything more. She simply slipped out of Sansa’s grasp again, and walked off, her armor clanking, back to her post at camp.

Sansa’s tears and sad, desperate expression slowly changed into a happy smile. She kissed me…she _kissed_ me. And it felt so amazing! I only hope that I can convince my girls to both be with me, she thought.

The day of the final battle had come. Sansa awoke, and Meera was watching her from a chair, inside the tent.

“Is it time?” Sansa sleepily asked, remembering the kiss from the night before. She touched her lip softly, still remembering the taste of her Meera._ If we survive…..I will make sweet love to her._

“It is, my queen. Your armor is there, next to the table.” Meera said dutifully.

Brienne entered the tent as well, and said “The men are skittish, and apprehensive. They could do with a speech, Your Grace.”

“Aye, very well, Lady Commander. Fetch my horse.”

Brienne bowed and said, “As you command, my queen.”

Sansa looked around, “And Lady Melisandre?”

Meera shook her head, “I saw her ride out of camp late last night.” Sansa should not have been surprised yet somehow was. _Was I just a pity fuck? And then she just leaves me to be slaughtered?_ _Damn her! I said the words! I….lay with her….yet she left me here to die_. Sansa’s fists balled up and tears nearly escaped her eyes. Yet such fury would have to wait.

Together with the rest of her Queensguard, she rode out to the head of the fully assembled Living Army consisting of the full mustered might of the North, and all the chivalry of the Trident and Vale.

Still waiting for them, but now stirring and chittering, was the Army of the Dead some hundred thousand strong. Towering above the wights, were wight giants and wight bears. Atop a hill just south of the Breach, the Night King and his Walkers stood at the ready. Upon seeing the living’s armies approach, the King eyed them, and slowly drew his spear, pointing it right at them. Sansa glared at him. _Try it, you monster. You will find we are not so easily exterminated. You baited us here, but we’ll make you pay for every single inch._

She arrived at the head of the army, and looked out at the host she assembled. They were some fifty thousand strong, having collected more reinforcements as they marched north. Most of the army knew they likely could not win this day and so some were shaking, white-faced, almost ready to throw down their weapons and run while they still could.

“I know you are afraid….” Sansa boomed to them, as their armor shone in the morning sun. “I am too…If you throw down your weapons and flee from this battle, I will understand. I will not hang you or throw you in a cell. That is not the kind of queen I am. Nor am I the kind of queen who would lie about our situation….We stand upon the brink of our destruction! In the south, the dragon queen has taken over and she will soon look my way. She will attack this country. And on this battlefield today, the Enemy of Mankind has come to destroy us all. When he’s finished with me, he will slaughter the Dragon Queen as well. There is no escape from this. If I commanded you all to hide behind our high walls, the dead would not have moved an inch until we were dying from cold and hunger, and they would still destroy us. When I commanded you to sally out and face them, I also commanded your wives, your children, your old and sick, to flee south as fast as possible as far as possible. We are here today, men, to buy time for the people we love to escape south.”

“ My Queensguard agree and they stand here ready with me,” she pointed to Princess Arya, Lady Commander Brienne, Meera, Lord Glover, Lord Ryswell and Lord Hornwood. “My knights from the Vale, led by my cousin, stand here with me. The Riverlords led by my uncle stand with me.”

“My Queen.” Grunted her Uncle Edmure, fully donned in Riverlord plate armor and brandishing his sword and shield.

“The entire chivalry of the Trident and Vale rode here with me because they know that this is our only chance! I was first warned of this threat when I came here…to this very Wall and learned that a mutiny butchered my brother, Lord Commander Jon Stark. I have lost others, including your former King Robb Stark, my eldest brother, who I have tried to honor every single day through my decisions. If we die this day…I expect Robb will see me soon. So will you stand with me this day? As you stood with my father and brothers? Will you fight so that others do not have to? Will you stand proud and die like men if need be, rather than cowering beneath the whip? Are you my knights?”

A loud and tremendous shout echoed across the entire battlefield, and the army began banging their shields and blades against each other.

“RED WOLF! RED WOLF! RED WOLF! RED WOLF!”

_Melisandre you will regret leaving me to die._ _If we make it through this, I will remove your head myself._ But Sansa cast aside her dark thought in favor of being proud that so many were willing to die for House Stark, and for the North.

As if in response, the Night King raised his spear, and as if being ordered to, the entire army of the dead surged forward, screaming and chittering, like an unending tide to destroy anything that came into its path.

“Nock your arrows!” screamed Brienne. “Wait until they get into range!”

They were hoping beyond hope that the shield wall could hold until the archers could do their work. Then the cavalry smash into the flanks, pinning the wights on three sides. But if their centre broke, it was over.

When the wights got into range, Sansa looked to her officers and said, “Rain fire.”

“LOOSE!” they yelled, and unleashed a hail of dragonglass-tipped arrows, which sailed and crashed into their ranks, taking out hundreds…yet hundreds continued to take their place. The dead seemed endless.

As they approached, Sansa was taken to the back lines, “My queen, we must protect you.”

Arya wanted however to fight, “They need me, Sansa!”

“No-“ but it was too late. Arya was already getting her spear and Northern armor ready. _Damn it, Arya!_ If Sansa could help it, she didn’t want Arya to leave her side. She has truly grown up, it seems, Sansa thought. And if we die, at least we die together. Bran was also at the rear of the army, and Sansa hoped his powers would be useful. At that moment, Bran’s eyes turned white, and a gigantic flock of crows came smashing into the wights, at least buying some time.

_Thank you, brother._

Yet it seemed only fleeting because the wights had reached the front shield-wall.

“Hold! Hold them!” she heard Brienne and Lord Royce yelling, Royce commanded the left flank, Edmure commanded the right flank, and Brienne had the centre.

“Your queen is with you! Hold them, men!” Sansa yelled. Meera, by her side, smiled proudly. Tentatively, Sansa reached out to grasp Meera’s mailed hand, who gripped her eagerly.

The battle was going poorly. Slowly but surely, the shield wall was beginning to break apart and for every one of the living slain, they joined the ranks of the dead just as Meera said they would. Bran continued to throw everything he could at the dead, but most animals had fled the warzone. I was hoping it would go a little better than this. Yet even Sansa’s most daring dreams could not match the horror of reality. Wights were breaking past the flanks and beginning to surround the smaller army of the living. Arrows continued to rain down onto the wights but for every one felled, a hundred took its place. The shield wall was pushed back and the centre started collapsing. They fell into open combat, Brienne dueling ten wights at a time. Edmure battling them. Arya was battling them, somewhere in this chaotic mess.

Sure enough, Arya came running back.

“Our centre’s gone. I’ll die protecting you, Sans.” She raised her spear at the ready, as they all prepared to fight to the very end.

Bran suddenly came out of his trance, and said “Good, you’re here. Then it can be done.”

Sansa whirled on her brother, “What are you talking about?”

“The prophecy of the Prince that was Promised….It is true. In my visions, an ancient Stark, the first true Stark, was that hero. So it will be again. To forge Lightbringer, you must lose that which you love. Plunge your blade into their heart, and it will become the sword of legend. Valyrian swords were made, supposedly, for this very purpose. The sword clasped to your belt.”

Sansa drew Longclaw. “T-this? I must…kill someone I love with it?”

“You could never slay the Night King in single combat. It has to be you…..Arya.”

Arya was stunned. She stammered, “N-no! If I were to kill someone I love, it would have to be either you or Sansa.”

Sansa realized what had to be done. _I’m so sorry, Arya. Perhaps this is the price I will finally pay for my sins._ She flashed back briefly to her decision to sally out and face the dead. She flashed back to making love to Melisandre, the traitorous bitch. She flashed back to all the times she was mean to Arya…the sister who would now slay her to save the world.

“S-surely Lady Melisandre could revive-“

‘Melisandre rode off last night. We can expect no help from that bitch.” Cursed Sansa.

“There’s no other way to win and no other help that will come. Arya you must.” Said Bran quietly.

Up on the hill overlooking the battlefield, a horn began sounding and many of the army of the living, suddenly turned to look for the source. The centre was collapsing, Edmure was dead, and the flanks were just barely holding position, having reformed into two new shield walls.

Lady Melisandre rode up on her horse, apprehensively seeing the destruction. Then…behind her, rode up hundreds more cloaked figures. When they removed their hoods, they each drew swords which burst into fire swords like the one wielded by Beric Dondarrion.

They raised up their banners, the banners that many recognized as the Fiery Hand of Volantis, and sure enough, as the Fiery Hand rode up, so too did the glittering armies of Old Volantis, marching in tight formations, and chanting. Reinforcements had at last arrived. They would stand together this day against the armies of evil and oblivion.

“To War! To War! To War!” They chanted in Valyrian.

Melisandre raised her own flaming sword, and cried with all her might, “TO THE QUEEN!”


	14. Sacrifice

Just as Sansa had begun to lose hope, she heard the shouting from the top of the hill.

“TO THE QUEEN!” the voices cried. The chanting continued, and they were crying only one name,

“SANSA! SANSA! SANSA!”

As if in answer to her prayers, thousands of warriors, armored and wielding swords literally aflame, sparkling in the morning light, thundered down the hill and crashed into the Walker’s flanks, cutting down many a wight. At their head, the Red Witch that Sansa had believed abandoned her. Yet she had returned, at the head of her order, named the Fiery Hand.

_Mel…!_ She thought and her heart fluttered. She would not admit it to herself but she had truly begun to feel something for the woman. With the pressure relieved, the Stark shield wall recovered. Yohn Royce and Brienne began shouting, trying to reform their almost broken lines.

“REFORM THE LINE! REFORM IT! FORWAAARD!”

“Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!” chanted the spearmen. It was a wonderous sight….but her true destiny was afoot.

“To save the world, we must destroy the Night King, Arya. This is the way…” Bran continued.

“We are winning the battle, Bran! I-“

“Look again.” Bran said in his quiet mysterious voice. “The Night King will not be denied”.

Sure enough, their Enemy made his move. With all of his Walkers, he unleashed a flurry of frost, putting out the Fiery Hand’s flames, and pushing the Alliance back. A terrible dread fell over Sansa. Their enemy seemed invincible.

At that moment, Melisandre rode up to them and bowed,

“My queen.”

“My Lady I…” Sansa smiled softly, “I believed you gone.”

“As I have said, I serve you, my queen. As surely as I and my order serve the Lord of Light and his will.”

“I fear you were too late.”

“Lady Melisandre….” Bran nodded. “Good. You will help.”

“With what?”

“We must save the world. This is the only way we can, now.”

Melisandre looked briefly afraid and concerned, then regretful.

“The prophecy of Azor Ahai. You mean to enact it. You believe our queen to be the one?”

Sansa though, was beginning to realize the truth. Why Jon did not come back to life, why she had been declared queen, why Melisandre had returned. _Could this be why? I have come this distance….fought everything I have fought….Because I must give my life saving the world._

Sure enough, the battle was almost done. The Night King was breaking through. Sansa briefly saw Lord Royce’s last stand. He managed to kill one Walker with Lamentation but was quickly slain from behind by another. The battlefield grew cold, dim and dark.

“I believe Arya to be the one.”

“Then you must. You must slay someone you love, my Princess.” Melisandre said gravely.

“No! There must be some other way!” Arya was screaming.

Sansa sadly shook her head, “There’s not…..Arya….. Do it. Kill me. You’ll be queen now…” she sniffed. “You’ll hate it more than me….but you’ll do it well…” Sansa gave a sad smile and presented her chest.

“Sans, no! How could I rule better than you?”

“You will. You’re strong. You know there’s no other way…..please sweet sister….I’m in so much pain. I led us all here to die.”

“Ohh….” Arya cried softly. “Come here…..i’ll take the pain away….”

She grasped Longclaw, and pulled Sansa by the hand toward her, slowly.

“Just close your eyes, my sister….my friend….._my queen_.”

_Father….Robb….Jon….I’m coming to see you soon. I hope I made you proud._

It only lasted a brief moment….Sansa felt excruciating pain as the sword stabbed into her ribcage and into her heart…and then all was black.

Truly this was a dark day. Sansa Stark’s luck gave out, and she died saving the world.

Arya Stark was Princess of the North, Vale and Trident, but she never wanted to be. That wasn’t me, she had told people. Her entire life, she spent it in Sansa’s shadow, from the moment she was born and it was clear she was not more beautiful than her redhead big sister. That set off a deep seated jealousy inside of her, and a feud that would last until their separation, during Father’s attempted coup. They didn’t find one another again until Arya was convinced to return to Winterfell by her friend Hot Pie who had informed her of the Battle of the Falcon and Wolf, and of her sister’s coronation as Queen in the North. It was the proudest moment of her life, and the moment she truly forgave Sansa for their past. She had won their home back from monsters, freed them and honored Robb’s legacy by assuming her true throne. A throne Arya never wanted.

So she had to find another path, and through training to be a Faceless Woman, she believed herself to have found that path. But when she dropped out of their program, she reaffirmed that she could never be no one. She was born Arya Stark of Winterfell and would stay that way. She had realized upon returning that Sansa’s coronation made her a princess in turn, and Sansa’s true heir now that Bran had abdicated to do…Bran things.

Sansa encouraged her by saying that it was her birthright and while she might not enjoy it, she would still do it, and that much was true. Arya would continue her family’s legacy however she could. She helped her sister rule, navigating dangerous waters and was one of the final words in convincing their army to march out and meet their fates. Arya was in no mood to sit and starve meekly. She was trained as a warrior and wanted to die like one. But Sansa was a diplomat. In the end she supposed Bran knew this and asked that Arya be the one to forge Lightbringer. Indeed it had not yet fully sunk in that Arya was now the new Queen of the North, Vale and Trident until Sansa had spoken the words,_ my queen. _

_Thank you for your trust in me, Sansa. I hope I don't do too badly._

But nothing was happening…._Have I killed Sans for nothing? Bran, what have you done?_

But as the Walkers began to approach her, suddenly Longclaw finally did catch on fire, and burst into the Sword of Heroes. _At last. _


End file.
